My old friend Tom, he had a way,
Of making every day his own.
With him, life's troubles danced like may.
And laughter bubbled like a golden foam.
His eyes, deep pools of liquid light,
Would twinkle with untold tales,
Of lands he'd seen and dreams alight.
In every corner of the world, he trails.
Through twists of time and age's touch.
He wore his stories like a cloak,
Like whispers of adventure, oh, so much.
He'd share them all, with every word, he spoke.
We'd sit by the fire on winter nights.
Embraced in warmth and soft-spoken words,
He'd paint pictures of grand and starry flights,
Taking us to realms where dreams occurred.
He danced with life and held its hand,
With zest unwavering and brave,
The world around him, his very own command.
As he embraced each moment, like a wave.
Oh, old Tom, your spirit lives, it glows.
Within the hearts of those you've touched,
An eternal flame, brightly it shows.
Reminding us to cherish life, so untouched.
So, in this poem, let us all stand tall.
In honor of old Tom, his wisdom and his charm,
For as he lived and loved for one and all,
May we keep his spirit ever-living and warm.