On ice he skates with a lion’s might, John Ragnar, where blades kiss the night. A slapshot proud, in laughter's embrace, With humor as vast as the rink's white face. In jersey bold, he catches the light, As Grandma’s birthday candles ignite. Two souls entwine in celebration's dance, Shared joy, akin to fate's grand romance. Determined, he glides, a puck’s guided flight, Echoing her laughter, in dreams taking flight.