A  man whose face was smiling in repose

A  man whose face was smiling in repose
His eyes gleamed  with the  lustre of a gem
He never said too much  but had his woes
Carried  with a  good will,   and great aplomb

Like the lights where people cross the road
He  had a  face  that smiled in  kindness sweet
He never said too much, he hid his woes
Despite his age he  still had both his feet

Like a poem  has metre,has a beat
Like the lights where people cross the road
Signals make us sensible  when fleet
He never said  but knew how  gnosis grows

His company is kind and never awes
As a poem  has metre,has a beat
He cannot  tolerate my jangled flaws
Symbols  that insinuate deceit

He never entered College can he read?
His company is kind,no  stasis glares
Never would he  plead  for my defeat
He cannot bring his  custom  to my flaws.

And so he is an instrument quite rare.
Who will not snoop nor wander   with wide ears