The old man looked at his gnarled hands,
that held his children strong and safe.
Each wrinkled line across his brow,
speaks of a different time and place.
The laugh lines that crease by his eyes,
speak of the happiness life can bring.
So much love is undisguised,
a joyful noise, his heart still sings.
He came with little, from far away,
to make a life in this unknown.
A wondrous land, he bought a farm.
He plowed and planted 'till crops were grown.
His young wife by his side could see,
the goodness in this man she chose.
She stood with him through good and bad,
his love is true this much she knows.
The old man raised his sons to be,
decent, hard working, honest men.
So later on at judgments gate,
they'd have a life they could defend.
This year the man turns eighty-three.
The hall mirror reflects a lie,
that can't be him, he still feels young.
Yet, he knows it's true, lets out a sigh.
The spring of life has long passed by,
the winter of his years are spent,
still, there is time left to give love,
before his soul is heaven sent.
On a tiny farm a family gathers,
an old man's birthday to celebrate.
They're all together and that's what matters,
his heart is full and life is great.
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