To Dad.

Still I learn from a man long past,
my path lit by his shadow cast.
Old style values held to the heart;
a gentleman – a dying art.
Always humble he walked with pride,
We all lost much the day he died.
I thank him now for so much he taught,
though I only learned part of what I ought.
You can’t teach one who just won’t learn,
but build in guideposts where they can turn.
Today, he still walks each day with me,
that gentleman with mind so free.

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About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri
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