Gateway

Unexpected memory of a corridor
Voices roaring down the hall
A birthday held when I was four

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Not for me, for the jolly good fellow.
An old man’s song if ever bellowed.
On a night that feels both mad and mellow.

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I mused a moment, child’s mind,
Who were his friends there by his side?
They loved him then and so did I.

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Lucky were the men back then,
To know my grandad as a friend,
Someone on which they could depend.

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I wonder if he would be proud
If he had lived to see me now.
The singing voices growing loud…

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He blew the candles on the cake
One day he lay and would not wake
Now floating down a gentle lake.

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Nothing in this world will last
Our candles burn into the past
And shadow we no longer cast.

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Unexpected memory of a corridor
Voices roaring down the hall
A birthday held at heaven’s door.

–

Written by Randall Evans