In this group there exists one of the world wonders

A child, a man, a friend who is comparable to no other

In my eyes he is a truly blessed individual

Who selflessness and luscious hair is no less than a miracle

He struts up and down mountain ranges like a goat

and is always there to hand out his unstoppable stoke

With his piercing blue eyes he makes the world fall in love

A master of cards who deals cleverly the queen of not clubs

But when I first met him there was little I knew

an innocent boy child with a burgeoning goatee too

I quickly learned that he was a pigeon scout

and at first I was not sure what the fuss was all about

But soon I realized the man had a talent

and gorging himself with the king of the curd

and although he could stand the dust of Patan

my respect grew infinitely and could not be curbed

At first he was quietly wise, almost a prophet

but when he experienced the awakening damage of the dome

he unleashed a beast so powerful no one could stop it

A god at mischief, or at least an equal

a pigeon no more but now an Eagle

A lyrical genius, witty poems he writes

i’d hope to do the same, but I’d be up all night

and yes he is a man of capacities

A master of the bow staff

A lover of himals

survival is his craft

A woofer to save them all

A better person I couldn’t imagine

honestly I’m proud to have shared his tent

and licked the lobes of such a companion

this is my own to my friend Brent