The Whirlybird by Mike Williams 01/24/2016 @ 12:08 P.M.
It was painted limelight green and beckoned for endless action.
Brian, Kyle, Jeff, and I were not sure what it would do.
We climbed atop, clutched its grips and pulled fro and to.
It began to spin round and round, we began to laugh and giggle.
Brian was holding on with one hand and in the other held a pickle.
Faster we went and with such speed, much to our surprise.
As grandpa looked on with an ear to ear grin and with smiling eyes.
That old man loved us boys, though he had so little he could buy.
We spent many hours playing and we were the apple of grandpa’s eye.
We knew that we were loved and though he rarely said a word.
We often think of grandpa and his wonderful Whirlybird.