Thank You For a Pleasant Outing At the Collegeville Diner

(earlier this January 18th, 2019 belatedly to acknowledge my LX birthday.) Mine eldest sister as I continue in the circle game of life, (ye dear Amelie McGeehan) darling dame a modestly lofty poem I aim to dash off (while riding away high in the sky - belay ying at Macht shnel blazing saddles laser optic speed in a white horse open sleigh), and plaudits of course without moment's delay, your husband Richard, one hunger re chap, who wolfed down his entree (who introduced me to fictitious song titled Richard, Cory), plus Harris patriarch Boyce aye aver as gregarious soon tub be a nonagenarian papa, also one grand dad dee glad this sole son did see our father (thou wart tin...) maintains sharp mental a cue witty, which does not mean he willoughby immortal till et tern knit tee since the gradual onset of death I bee leave actually begins at birth, but whee ving and bobbing (like a sponge at sea) waves each person closer to thee cosmic creator, or re: incarnate tid (three times a day) tis key unless otherwise specified (if questionable issue at stake, sans not so ease zee as apple pie with gray vee), hence power of attorney in demand, cuz this brother-hood generated bupkis, and made prithee coon fuse, nary a whit, asper executor signed... yours True Lee!