a hangover being built to last.
Uncle John takes me by the hand, and
within the hour I can barely stand.
He dances to his favourite tune,
and talks of friends gone too soon
When seven brothers sang as one, and
now so many of them gone.
A playful wink to a girl nearby, he's
never accused of being shy.
With a laugh to melt the coldest of hearts,
he fills the room as the music starts.
I sit and watch with bleary eyes,
this dear old man with his 'band o' guys'
I truly pray that when I leave,
I'm celebrated by men like these.
Daley James Francis