My Grandpa Can Fly
A poem by Ray's Grandaughter, Teresa
When the wind touches my face;
And the Clouds Billow in the sky,
I tell everyone my Grandpa can fly.
He is so amazing, his style, his technique,
That's what makes my Gramps so very unique,
His eyes are blue, like the bluest sky,
Maybe that's why my Grandpa can fly.
His kites are like people;
Like when two people first meet,
The way they dance in the sky,
You can almost feel the wind beneath your feet.
He has flown everywhere, all over the world,
He has met so many people, nice, I've heard.
I don't get to see him, sometimes I wonder why,
But when I miss him the most,
I close my eyes and watch him fly.
So next time you see a kite in the sky;
Just remember my Grandpa can fly.
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