By Norma (Twi1ite@sbcglobal.net)
I looked up in the clouds and believe
I saw you with your diner’s cap on,
108 you are today,
Singing a happy song.
There you are in your own sandwich shop,
Pouring “draw one’s” the best in the universe,
Loving and laughing, giving advice and sharing’
With the old guys who loved you on earth.
I see baby sister at the end of the counter,
With her little bowl of ice cream you gave,
Soaking up attention with her winks,
About her your friends all raved.
When everyone’s served,
You join them, with a scup scuffee and apple pie,
After having a big baked ham sandwich,
Yes, for you, they have those in the sky.
The juke box must play My Wild Irish Rose,
For you sing that like nobody else,
Hands down you win over any Karaoke,
God Himself hears and rings angel bells.
I don’t see Mother at your shop,
But I smell the chocolate cake she’s baking,
Just down the block of gold bricks she’ll be,
To your surprise party cake taking.
Grandma and Grandpa are weighing down a table,
With you favorite foods and then some,
Fried steak, gravy, hot biscuits, mashed potatoes,
Green beans, peas, a pile of sliced tomatoes while they humm.
All ten of you younguns will gather round - all save one,
The old piano is being rolled in with a sister on the bench,
Over the Waves and Skaters Waltz,
By her ear made glorious, for her a cinch.
So sorry I won’t be up there this time, but
I know you are thinking of me,
Happy Birthday Daddy and countless more,
For you're in your blissful eternity.