Alex on his 80th Birthday

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~THE SIG BOX~

I wrote this for a special 80th birthday.

Alex has turned eighty, he really is the best,
When he's goat somethin' tae tell ye, he pokes ye in the chest.
Ah widnae say he's Superman, but his hands are dynamite,
"Ah've goat a joke tae tell ye." He stabs ye wi' delight.

His golf is super, magic, ye can hear his gleefull call,
"Ah've hit a triple bogey," as he retrieves his ball.
"It could hae been much better, twa hundred's whit ah scored,"
We stood there in amazement, then we roared, and roared and roared.

Ah tell ye Alex's a genius and a master cook as well,
His beans oan toast are marvellous and his sausages just swell and swell and swell.
His laundry days are awesome, he pits in loads o' stuff,
Forgets tae turn the machine oan, that gets him in the huff.

When he cooks there's smoke aboundin' tae every coarner o' the room,
Alex is in the kitchen, prepare tae meet thy doom.
He's such a happy chappie, that when aw his chores are done,
He watches Coronation Street at the settin' o' the sun.

Finally he reposes, oan a bed o' eiderdown,
Dreamin' o' when he wis younger and how he yaist tae paint the town.
A smile wid creak his face, when he thocht o' OVD,
He'd drink it by the bucketfu', or in mony a cup o' tea.
So let us raise oor glesses and gie a herty cheer,
tae Alexander Johnston, oan reachin' his eightieth year.

Copyright 2004

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Alex on his 80th Birthday