The Sage (Dedicated To Dr. R.S.- From The Probe Journey) Poem by Maymay Marie

Folks listened as he talked genteelly,
His voice was an opera to deal,
His stature made everyone applauded,
Blended with refining words quote.

The atmosphere gave birth to the song,
The theme was quite a food hard to swallow,
For those whose stomach were blue,
Yet the song comforted everyone as he sung.

His lines were clearing to a foggy mountain,
His ink was a mural in a canvass,
In the world of numbers,
He was The Sage.

The blank pages were drawn to him,
The procedures he keenly observed,
Making remarks to the dim spec,
Sword of pen labor he made.

When the queries were a rough background,
He talked of smooth numbers,
He was The Sage that sung the hymn,
He was The Sage in the world of numbers.