Pete’s perceptions,
Always weighty,
Will soon be more so
Now he’s eighty.



That forehead’s glow,
The nimbus’s gloss,
Give clear proof
Of gravitas.




This honored status
Assumed in a breeze….
He's our new  Elder Statesman -
An Eminence Grise.



He'll pitch in with Zeus,
And Wodin and Jove,
To add ponderous insights
To the gods' wisdom-trove.