Gentleman, gentle man,

Lived up the road,

It’s time now, it’s plain

For his tale to be told

Of sowing and growing,

Around rocks big and small,

His hands often bearing

Earthy pleasures of Fall

Tall man, striking man

Handsome Bob was his name

He lived on the land

Making no claim to fame

Chinchilla he raised

Fur soft and shining

No fortune was made

Tho’ for no lack of trying

Kind man, caring man,

Always approachable,

Such even disposition,

And so very affable

Tractors and plows,

And homemade skidoos,

What the heck’s he on now?

As four-wheelers flew

Helpful man, obliging man

Snow remover, worry soother

Comfort on an installment plan

Delivered to friend and neighbor

School Bus and Jeep,

Shelburne Road staples

On roads sheer and steep

Safe children disciple

History man, story man

Revelled in the bygone

When acting as historian

Sometimes it seemed an aeon

Raccoons and geese,

Dogs, ducks and cats,

Pork chops were free,

Bob’s plate’s where it’s at

Coffee man, cookie man

At Josie’s he would drop in

More often than the mailman

Where many a tale he’d spin

ATVs and lawn mowers,

Whipper Snippers’ and saws

Hanging out at Gates’ Power

Where one and all could jaw

Modest man, humble man

No braggart was he,

Nor considered vulgarian

What he offered was free

And once those days came

When health was a chore

His spirit the same

He helped all the more

Gentleman, gentle man

His days are now past

Yet memories live on:

The definition of class

copyright r.b.franklin October, 2012

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