This is another poem of appreciation for my boss at the foundry. A man who is formidable in nature and few words, but one of the fairest men I know.
I sat inside your office at the age of forty-five, A farmer's desperation just to keep the dream alive. Just hoping you would look at me and take a chance to see, The farmer's steady promise that was still inside of me. I'll admit I'm far from perfect, and I surely wasn't then, But I learned mechanic's lessons in the rust beside the men. That my true value isn't found in polish or in gold, But in the perseverance when the nights were growing cold. The months went by, the days grew long, until the layoffs hit, And when the storm came crashing down, my time was sadly clipped. I still remember clearly the words you said that day, "I hope our paths will cross again somewhere along the way." I spent eight years in other jobs, the foundry called me back, And finally put my purpose and my spirit back on track. I know it was my second chance, a light that has been lit, And I'm glad to have been taught by you the truth in all the grit.
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