Memory of Jack

He is like Jack
How he would have looked "pushing fifty"
White hair cut low at the temple
The same finger pointing
His personae absolutely like a sixties man
Eyes, forever moist
And mouth
About to erupt into a sunflower smile
But eyes
The bluest and best
No green sparkle
No power blaze
But wit like Jack arouses
and I raise my eyebrows
I over hear his jovial chatter and say
"You know what they say about a little of
what you fancy".
He comes back smiling,
"and that as well……".