UNDER CONTROL

I hardly think about Dad anymore,

Now my concerns about me!

Fifty years older than he now,

As he died about forty-three.

.

.

My dad, a great preacher man, I know

Accomplished more in that time

Than many of us, no all of us

In my family combined!

.

.

Swindon, England his birthplace,

Stateside bound at age sixteen.

Worked his way on a steamship,

Nyack, New Jersey seemed–

.

.

Like, forever his education!

India that was his call,

Impatient but dedicated,

We embarked one and all!

.

.

I was six months, my brother two years,

Adventure for him and myself!

Ten years for growing up and school!

Monotony laid on the shelf!

 .

 .

Father was impatient to get going

Language study a bore!

Teacher became his interpreter,

Converted!  He asked for more!

.

.

He got it, preaching as father did!

The two a perfect pair!

Sincerity stamped their features as

They thundered the Gospel there!

.

.

“Why waste time at language study?

Young converts can preach, too!”

They preached everywhere!  The perfect team!

How better could they do?

.

.

Forgot!  Oh, yes!  Forgot about me,

Great-grandchildren, seventeen!

My only claim to fame, I fear,

So I on my father lean.

.

.

Maybe someday my great-grandson, Luke,

Will brag about this poor soul!

I have been everywhere done everything!

Now everything is under control!

.

.

Someday Hanna and Luke will know

Their great-grandfather, long gone

“In the sweet by and by,” they will hear

Just where did he find that song?

.

.

Father’s Day Sam Cox 06-09

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