George was a good ole soul
a better guy you would never know
Give you the shirt off his back
and that dollar he kept in his hat
A helping hand and kind word
with George humor was always heard
Was handy and helpful with any task
and not a penny would he ever ask
Love to chat and tell those tales
successful businessman in sells
Loved his wife and tall boy
his little dogs brought him joy
Lived life large and was everyone's friend
but his mind slowly begin to leave him
A sad way in life to decline
when the past is all that clutters your mind
His eyes glazed with things long gone
sometimes life is unfair and wrong.
The guy sold the saddle off his rack
To a two-bid gunslinger named Pack
Who held out his gun
And dared him to run
Then shot the shirt off his back
At home he was considered a black sheep
In spite of that an overflow of kindness from his veins did seep
At school was always considered an outcast
He didn't ever seem to mind always being chosen last
During a military draft was one of the first to willingly enlist
For love and peace of his country he'd gladly take a stand and shake his fist
Homeless and would still be the first to give you the shirt off his back
He'd always bestow upon others everything he always did lack
Down on his own luck at the end of the day, it was still only for the rest of the world he always did pray
As the stars twinkled with magical delight the heavens smiled down upon him as he'd fall asleep each night
Golden halo surrounded his beautiful heart
Guardian angels saw his good deeds as a true graceful art
He'd frequently give never asking for or wanting anything in return
A passion within to help others strongly did burn
One day fate would have it that the tables had turned
A voice came from a familiar face and a favor was returned
He had a great job and now the security of a house
He started donating to good causes never wanting recognition always kept anonymous, quiet as a mouse
He was a gentle giant
Big with a bigger heart
He had a difficult ailment
Alcohol and drugs in part
He gave his shirt off his back
With a unconditional love
Without leaving out a fact
He told stories sent from above
His hug was like being embraced
By someone who knows your deepest pains
He would hold you until he had erased
Any feelings of discouragement or chains
When he looked into your eyes
You felt sure he could see everything inside
His gaze was like someone who is wise
Beyond the years that they abide
His death was like a fearful walk
From joy into the depths of hurt
I could actually feel my mind balk
Keeping me from giving in to the effort
It’s been sixteen years and each day
I think of his kindness, his presence
I miss him and feel like I must pay
For the overwhelming absence
I have to say that love has a way
Of making life more precious
Without my gentle giant I can say
My tears hold more potency
And I often pray
For reverence
©2014 by Regina Riddle
"Spectacles, Testicles, Wallet & Watch,"
and everyone laughed, as he pointed
to each location.
Irreverent,
to some,
but in the rhythm,
a silent prayer.
No God could control him;
have him tow the line,
put fear of retribution,
or threaten him to a life
stoking the coals for Beelzebub.
He would give you the shirt off his back.
Comfort those he didn't know and
face death square on,
while laughing it down, to his last breath.
Courage, unending love for mankind, for life,
today, they talk of his character,
his gentle manner, and kind and humorous
heart.
With respect for his decency,
they honor him,
and still laugh at his jokes.
A friend of mine,a fellow truck driver,
Had passed away.
He was heading home to his family,
And had a heart attack along the way.
It takes a special person,
To drive one of these rigs down the road,
John was one of them people,
He would take care of the load.
He was a kind man,
Never really had much to say.
But he would give you the shirt off his back,
He was just made that way.
He didn't have a chance,
To tell his family how he cared,
But his family knew,
The love for them he shared.
His brother was his team driver,
A man of the same.
He was with John,
When the lord came.
The tears streaming,
Down his cheeks with pain,
As he tried to comfort him,
Where he had lain.
Hopefully the pain subsides,
For the family and friends.
Because for John,
It's the beginning of an end.
Rest in peace John,
And have no regret.
You are a man,
That no one will forget.
(Dedicated to John Silks,Fellow truck driver and friend.)
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