My
Aged
Friend,
The
Poet
And
Vivant,
Grew
Gaunt
And
Slipped
Away.
The
Steadfast
March
Of
Days
Turned
His
Bright
Color
To
Silver
Grey's.
Reckless
Frivolity
Was
His
Innate
Quality,
But
Every
Thing
He
Did
Wrong
Resulted
In
A
Song.
For
Me,
His
Laughter
Will
Linger
Ever
After,
A
Pudding
Swirl
Of
Gaiety,
Rich
And
Mellow,
A
Gift
From
This
Charming
Fellow.
Fame
Blew
Away,
But
Who’s
To
Say
If
He
Should
Have
Gone
Another
Way?