My Buddy

Your origins in Africa,
wise man of many years;
from Europe I descended,
still one wet ‘hind the ears,
‘hind the ears.

We sat out on the porch,
or strolled down to the store;
seems morning, noon, and night,
us two would laugh some more,
laugh some more.

But when life took a turn,
thought I should leave a friend;
not once in two full years,
a letter did I send,
did I send.

At last I came to know,
true friends are hard to find;
I traveled through to see you,
but … only in my mind,
in my mind.

Sadness, grief, anxiety,
one such as you had flown;
my sorrow only overcome,
to think of fun we’d sown,
fun we’d sown.

Your life, a precious gift,
Sir Sammy, yeah! – so funny;
with God forever dwelling,
you’ll always be my buddy,
my buddy.