his hair is white like new fallen snow

His hair is white like new fallen snow

He walks with a shuffle his gate is so slow

He oft times falls asleep in the middle of the day

His speech is more labored speak louder they say.

He looks at his photos and days of the past

He knew that his youth never would last

How quickly the years have gone by

He is now an old man

Time surely doth fly

You can never return so the best you can do

Is to recall the past and things that were new

He remembers the excitement of each fishing trip

Singing “I’m happy when I’m hiking” with a song on your lip

Setting up camp was the first chore to do

Pitching tents and gathering fire wood

Before we were through

Then we would string up the fishing pole

And off we would go

By the end of the day

Every fishing hole we would know

The meals in the mountains

Are not the very best

Yet each meal became better

We would gobble up the rest

Looking at the stars from the mountains

Are beautiful to see

The brightness is a testimony

God’s gift to you and me.

The old man well remembers

When each experience was new

The stories told and retold

Maybe aren’t even true

Most of his fishing friends have passed away

Or barely getting by

We had our day we shared our joys

We will meet again on high.

Love…Dad