God’s work of art, yet not quite done,
Eighty eight years, without much fun.
His brush painted out a tough course,
That your free will FULLY endorsed.
Like a pearl refined in the sea..
Like the sparkling caves in Capri,
Your soul rings out with “bel esprit,”
A melodious potpourri!
As another birthday draws near,
And you approach a new frontier,
I beg you, mom, to persevere,
To reach…the celestial sphere!
God’s work of art, yet not quite done,
Boy, am I proud to be your son!!
I LOVE YOU, MOM!!