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
