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Nonagenarian Poem - 2016

Living Nine decades
Serves you well
Just like a cat's life
Oh pray tell

You've done more things
Than you’ll recall
And for ninety years
You’ve had a ball

Sure – had some valleys
But even more hills
And through shaky times
You paid your bills

You made us proud
Serving Uncle Sam
And you helped others
When in a jam

You conquered trouble
You conquered fear
And made it through
With help of beer

Actually, your moderation
In all you did
Got you to an adult
From being a kid

You traveled the world
And saw its plight
You made a difference by doing what's right

Away from your home
So much of the time
It had to be lonely
Dear brother of mine

Marriage and children
Came in due season
To give them your all
You’d need no reason

 Amidst usual setbacks
They brought you much joy
First a great girl
Then 2 mighty fine boys

You conquered illness
Many times over
Your life was never
Just honey and clover

Your resolve is uncanny
Facing hardship with smiles
There’s no one like you
Within a million miles

I love playing golf
Especially with you
‘Cause you play so fast
I get in shape too

Then there’s your jazz
I do love your taste
When I come for a visit
We go hear trios in haste

So to wrap this all up
I’d just like to say
Congrats on the Big 90
And have a great day!!

Love, Bro

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Octogenarian Poem - 2006

I’m really quite sure that for the “couch potato” set
The odds of a healthy “Big Eighty” might be a bad bet
But then, when you are Mr. “Hurry Up and Putt”
Hitting this milestone seems more like “So what?”

Along with myself, I think my big brother Jack
Inherited our dad’s fidgetiness, then never looked back
He’s been known to play golf nearing the speed of light
If 18 holes exceeds 3 hours, he gets all uptight.

He remarried young, a very wise thing to do
“But he even wears ME out!”, says a much younger Sue
A woman his age would be no match for man of his pace
You just have to stand back and give him lots of extra space.

Do not be fooled by that eight decade span
Like a cat, he’s lived nine times that of a normal man
Now where hasn’t he been, and what hasn’t he done?
He’s always worked hard, but knows how to have fun.

Like clowns in a VW Bug, it’s a mystery how
He packs more ‘stuff’ into life than time will allow
It’s so fun to watch – yes, his life’s never been dull
There’s always another jazz venue to fill any lull.

But let’s take a look at Jack’s adventurous past
Because he packed so much in, we’ll have to move fast
He might be embarrassed, but I must spill the beans
His precarious living went on through his teens

It all began as a lad when he was hit by a truck
And though dragged for awhile, he survived not by luck
For God had a higher purpose and protected his life
But that doesn’t mean he wasn’t due for more strife

I know as a teen he drove the van for his dad
While delivering meat products, he was up to some bad
Among the lard cans he’d have little bro ride in the back
And during quick turns, the cans, into Gary would smack

Now in the car with his friend Bob, they’d head out of town
Doing tricks while driving that would shock even a clown
You’d think he’d know better, but again little bro
Was in the back seat as a witness, wouldn’t you know

Jack climbed out the window as Bob grabbed the wheel
Then onto the roof Jack went, thinking “No big deal!”
As Bob now drove, Jack climbed in the passenger side
While little Gary was thinking “What a joy ride!”

They took turns doing these rotations again and again
As the car rolled along on its little country spin
When we all got home, though, and sat down to dinner
Little Gar couldn’t contain it, and popped out a “winner”

“Boy, Mom and Dad, those guys sure do drive funny!”
To recapture Jack’s expression, I’d pay darn good money
I remember a hand under the table grabbing my knee
And knew if I said any more, for mercy I’d plea

Once later on, Jack’s love of golf cast out all fear
For he and his friends vowed to play each month of the year
When summer waned and the winter snows fell
To them, freezing, while hitting orange balls was just swell

Many more of Jack’s shenanigans I’m sure I could share
But sometimes it’s better to just leave it right there
So moving on to more positive things he has done
Recalling memories of this octogenarian is such fun

Jack’s interests in life includes music and the arts
In high school he earned some key operetta parts
Playing violin for awhile surely did not make him grin
Though I’ve seen a cute photo with it tucked under his chin

After high school he enlisted in the US Air Force
While World War II had yet to run its course
He worked his way to Corporal and learned how to fly
The experience was rewarding, and his spirits soared high

So then it was off to college, to Asbury he did go
And formed a male quartet which put on quite a show
They sang their gospel songs in churches far and wide
I sense they’ll all regroup when they reach the “other side”

His high school sweetheart, Mary Ann, joined him in Kentucky
A later marriage made their lives turn out just “ducky”
Having a girl and two boys added so much pleasure
And the joy the grandkids bring is a bit too much to measure

Teacher, preacher, missionary, business man
Find the likes of that career sequence if you can
Isle of Pines to Bascom, the Philippines to Brazil
Then on to Portland, Oregon to climb the corporate hill

But with life comes tragedy, disappointment and grief
And in time, following Mary Ann’s passing, came relief
He was fortunate to find a new mate that he could woo
And soon Jack proposed, then tied the knot with Sue

His love of chocolate competes with his deep love of jazz
I think that he’d be happy if these were all he has
But that’s an exaggeration – it simply is not true
For I failed to mention golf, and his dear sweetheart Sue

And don’t forget his running off to Gearhart, Maui and such
Even spent time in Europe, his life is filled with much
A risk-taker for sure, he’s our Jackson in action
A lesser man could have easily ended up in traction

Tennis is good, Squash and Handball are better
These activities are so great for such a go-getter
But I really think that the best thing for Jack’s psyche
Is to be out on the links hitting a little white Nike

So here’s to an octogenarian who’s lived life so well
I’m proud to be the brother of this man, Jack Stowell
He’s made many a person happy, and even made some proud
And he deserves the wildest birthday any man’s allowed!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wishing you a truly happy and blessed 80th birthday,
Jackson, and many, many, many more!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All 3 poems submitted over the years by little Bro, Gary

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

88th BD Poem - 2014

You ain't old
Mature's the word
Kind of like
This big-eyed bird

Play a little golf
Have a little beer
Go to a game
Let out a cheer

Act like a kid
So no one will know
That you’re over 50
‘Cause it sure doesn’t show

Sing like a bird
Start a quartet
Do a little dancin’
You ain’t done yet

Kick off your shoes
Stand on your head
Do some pushups
Before going to bed

Make plans for some fun
Take your wife on a date
Do some smoochin’
While staying up late

Grab your clubs
And head for the links
Take some practice swings
To work out the kinks

Then shoot some pars
And a birdie or two
And an Eagle would be nice
For that psyche in you

Then to top the day off
Hear some good jazz
To spice up your life
Yea – some razzamatazz

A double eight?
That can’t be you
Ya don’t fit the mold
There’s too much you do

Keep letting your brain
Dictate your age
Your body don’t count
It’s on another page

So Happy Birthday, Bro
I’m proud of all you do
A wonder of God’s making
That is assuredly you!!

Love, Little Bro