Papa Byrd

Papa loved his babies,

Both big and small.

And there was something about his arms,

Strong and comforting.

Of course the top of his head

Was the perfect place for a kiss.

And that old comb-over

Great for granddaughters playing beauty shop.

He had a great smile,

A little mischievious,

And his eyes

Were so full of love.

In his voice there was strength

It was deep and sweet.

He loved to sing about heaven,

Sweet Beulah Land,

Steppin' on the clouds

And getting new hands.

Now it's come to pass

Some glad morning's come.

Hallelujah by and by.

Oh, what a flight.

~for my Papa - Wayne L. Byrd 5/12/26-3/5/10