Ode to the kind First Bus Driver

Twas a nice Friday morning

The weather outside was beaconing

of a rare sunny day in winter

Time was short and even though

There was a cake

For a friend I needed to wrap

Grabbed I my rucksack

And bid my hubby to post the cake for me

Off I rushed outside the door

The bus would be there at the bus stop soon

And up the hill with might I ran

Halfway through the bus stop I spotted

The bus had come and soon will leave

Gathered all the strength I have

Doubled the speed of my tiny feet.

Slowly the bus started to roll off

The kind bus driver his attention I caught

Faintly I uttered for him to stop and wait

He surely was a kind old man

His kindness be blessed all the days of his life

For he pressed the brake to wait for me.

My heart a-pounding fast it was really deafening

In my chest I felt an agonizing pain

But my heart was filled

With thanksgiving a genuine

For the kind old man who's behind the wheel.

May his joys be multiplied
and all his kind deeds be blessed.