SKY PILOT, HOLY JOE, PADRE

Why did they call me Sky Pilot?

Sure–sure, of course, I know.

It was afer I put-on that stupid

Sam Cox suicide show.

.

 .

Waving grenade in plainest view

Of enemy down there.

Sure, hidden cave.  Knew they could see

Me on that path clear fair!

.

 .

Dispair?  Not at all!  Could only feel

Adrenalin gushing through!

‘Fire at will!’  Sure, my name is Sam!

Guess just seemed the thing to do!

.

.

Felt I did not care whether live or die.

Something had to be done!

A death-wish?  Could be I’d remember.

Philippine Islands, bright sun!

.

 .

Could not care less! My attitude!

Live or die!  Who cares?

Living here or Heaven there,

Always accepted dares!

.

 .

What I did?  I waved that grenade!

Sure, wanted them to see!

Then I set it, a booby trap

Then back alive!  Still free!

 .

 .

Of course they saw, I stayed awake!

Dark came,could here them clear.

Right underneath, soon near enough.

Threw grenade, no fear.

.

 .

Double explosion!  Like, world’s end!

“What?”  I heard.  “Oh, just Sam!”

How did he know?  Stuff I had done before!

Like, damn cram sham.

 .

 .

 But why “Sky Pilot,”  Rev., Padre, too?

Just was not afraid of death!

A knowing squad,  Heaven awaited,

Sure, while I still prized breath.

.

 .

Did God know?  And I think He cared,

Still around at ninety-three!

Was a three-year-man, like, 13 churches

Jesus  preached, sure just three!

Then crucified  for me!!

.

 .

Rose again!   Left that grave.

Lives forever, you know!

We will live forever, too.

Where ever we  go!

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 .

Pray I will see you in Heaven!

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.

Sam Cox (like, superannuated)

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