(Since none of these statements felt right crammed together into one poem, I decided it was best to put them into convenient shorts)
The most refreshing gift he can give us is his laughter.
The most sincere, most withheld gift a man on the move can give.
He carries no weight while he walks
and he walks a lot.
His serious, sometimes mischievous, but always engaging eyes wander like time wanders down a secluded hall.
They usually have a purpose.
Mild mannered men don’t usually start riots, but when they do,
they move like eerily quiet tempests.
The danger is palpable and succinct.
Me? No, you lie.
No one does and that’s a shock.
They are honest about him.
But modesty is beautiful.
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