In the garden of years, where memories bloom, Marvin turns eighty-three, dispelling all gloom. With pickleball spirit, he plays with delight, Chasing the sun from morning 'til night. His grandkids bring laughter, like seeds in the breeze, Each cherished moment, a treasured reprise. Owen and Cohen, the apples of his eye, In their joyful presence, time seems to fly. With kids by his side, and a wife who is dear, Together they weather each passing year. In love's gentle garden, where stories unfold, Marvin finds joy in the wealth that can't be sold.