poetry by Mercysmine

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I heard the news today, that he
Died after Sunday morning service
They say the preacher got down on his
Knee's and pleaded, I heard Bill
Just lowered his head, clenched his
Fists and shook his head

Sunday morning service you'd always find
Bill, sitting next to his wife and
Kids on the back pew, she was a
Godly woman, a good wife too, taking
Her and the kids to Sunday service
Was the proper thing, for a Husband
And father to do

Bill was a good man, never did anybody
Wrong, worked hard for his family, Bill
Never roamed, helped anybody that
Needed a hand, wasn't given to drink
He saw no need for the salvation
The preacher man preached

Weeks turned to months, months into
Years, at the close of last Sunday
Service the preacher was in tears, said
He hadn't closed his eyes all night
For the LORD had told him, as he
Prayed for his flock, on someones
Door, very soon, death would knock

Bills wife reached over, her eyes
Filling with tears, said Bill you
Mus'nt leave here, without making
Sure, As the choir sang "There's
Room at the Cross" Bill walked
Out the door, a good man, still
lost

His wife, she cried most all the way
Home, Bill was getting aggravated and
Told her so, Sunday dinner was quiet that
Day, the kids ate quickly then went
Out to play, as his wife cleared the
Table, Bill went to take his Sunday
Nap

The sun was going down, it was near
Milking time, Bills wife shook his
Shoulder, there was no response, it
Was on Bill's door, that death had
Knocked.

Ginger 8/5/08
"Don't be caught dead without Jesus"









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