Age is naught but a mortal frame
Yet, your spirit it cannot tame
Whence your heart does roar
With a power unmatched by heavenly flame.
Nye upon the ground your spirit does race
Perchance we find it among those who keep pace
With the adventures of your marvelous lore
Wherein we gather by a love threaded from iron lace.
Thine eyes of wisdom sparkle and wink
Wherefore do they sink?
By mine love I shall make your spirit soar,
Whence thine heart is mine by a divine link.
A smile – yay! – yours the glory of the world
Far away, its warmth for which I have purled
But even now I feel thine embrace more and more
By which I smile because mine lips have curled!
I finish this plea here
Though a stain upon my cheek – a tear!
Makes me hasten for the door
So I may be with you, my dear!
Birth is better to celebrate than death, so here is to you, G. We’ll miss you~