Andrew Billy Joyce

He’s Hemingways whiskey, he’s vodka on ice Smoke on the water, a roll of the dice Magic and mirrors illusion to most Thumbing his way from east coast to west coast He’s lived on the brink, on the edge of a knife He’s met with the greats on his journey through life For us that have known him a gem in the making The path that he’s travelled’s a journey worth taking Enraptured by life, he’s moralitys friend He’ll draw you right in by the beauty he pens Enthused and endearing,. his visual insight His words gently scripted on pages of white Pen to the paper, ink to the quill Bending the world to the whim of his will Where many have faltered, he’s stood strong and proud Barely intact, he don’t run with the crowd You’ve slept at his side, in the depth of his charm He’ll find you undone, but he won’t do you harm His Devils have left him so bruised and alone But the Devils we are, show through, clear to the bone The tide of time’s turning, it waits for no man But he’s done in a lifetime, more than most can Waded in the mire, he’s cut through, in his youth Through Hell and high water, he’s bathed in the truth 140 Andrew Billy Joyce You’ve trifled with danger, it’s kiss left you cold In most it’s enough for their tale to be told But there’s a book in the making, so time will allow For a story unravelled, to be woven somehow Tread the grapevine with Steinbeck, trace footsteps of Twain To each goes their own, but to us you’re the same For to write from the heart, a man has to fall To the depths of despair, ‘fore he answers his call Put down on paper what your life has unfurled Help us figure out this strangest of worlds Though we pass through our lives, sometimes with regret You’re a wonderous soul, we won’t want to forget My daughters eyes opened, to all she can be By a gift from a heart, that is full as can be I hope and I pray, as this world nears its end And I’m honoured and touched, for to call you my friend