I will open with a 300 bid
Grandpa than said 'I will go to 320'
For another pinochle game had just started
On that yellow covered table I loved so well
For memories of my family come flooding back
For we played the game as hard as we worked
The final scores was always routinely tallied up
But in our game as in life there were no losers
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I never get enough of the McCornack family memories, John! Along with your extraordinary talent with the camera! And, sir, your poetry isn't bad either. Keep it up and I will check back! Hey folks, he's a 'very' talented guy!