The need remains

and the love lives on,

years after

birthdays cease to add up.

Sixty four

but really

life times have passed

in that very long minute.

With no chance

for hair to turn grey

or retire into solitude,

but a life

still holds meaning

in sixty four years

or less.

Youth learns

through the years,

from the passing.

We still need,

we'd still feed.

Missing the chance

to grow and change,

mourning the grandchild-less knee

or son's simple smile.

Ageing without fading,

no slipping away

for a cut down idol,

but a new respect

when the season's change.

Does a birthday

count less

when time stops ageing?

Or does it mean more

by showing the need?

We'll still need you,


we'll still feed you,


when you're sixty four

and beyond.


This would have been John's 64th birthday…this is to commemorate the day