As you drink, may your spirits be lifted  
An ode to a life lived and yet, to live
A toast to the day that has passed and for tomorrow to come

May your dreams in their brevity, take you to rest
Having arrived, be whisked away to Neverland
Once there seek out the world of fantasies

When a soldier marches, where does his focus go?
Forward? To glory or doom?
His mind filled with stories of honour and pride of wars long ago?

Backward? Of the life, they left behind?
To the wife, the child back home?
The medals to be shown as trinkets or to speak never more?

Have they ever stopped to look around? Of the country, to be or not to be? The mountains, the rivers, the towns and to the sea.
The damage to be caused? The life preserved?

Regardless, the solider marches

The callus of your hands knows the weight of labour
But we know the weight of your gentleness

The callus of your feet knows the many miles of travel
But we know it always returns home

The callus of your heart knows the spite of the world
But we know its love and its warmth

You grew up in need, but you gave us want

To the best father in the world

Happy Birthday!

Time is to precious
My chances.. are abundant
But I take... my chances and time
On you

When am tired
To rest my head on your lap
Sleep soundly with you watching over me
an angel  

When I cry
To do so on your chest
So that your heart my soak my tears
And use it to grow

When I love
To receive it back
To feel what other's felt
All these years