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.
Doin’ Stuff stuff