Number 2 Blog :

BROKEN FOR ME : a poem I wrote about my dad in 1988

He was mending a fence on a farm long ago
when the wires did slip, and his hand caught the blow;
With the skin left a-hanging, he did not forego...
and he fixed that old fence, on that farm, long ago.

He was stacking some rocks by a rough chicken pen
when the large rock he held fell earthward again.
On his big toe did land, and he squawked like a hen...
and he finished the wall, by that rough chicken pen.

He was milking a cow near a crude, homemade bunk
when the cow's leg did jerk, and he felt his ribs ' clunk.'
So he kick-chained the cow; he would stand for no junk...
and the bucket was filled, by that crude, homemade bunk.

I could tell you for hours, just so you could see,
that my dad's a real hero; he's not just a ' he'.
He has loved me so much, dad's a real specialty...
for his hands, toes and ribs have been broken for me.

This poem also reminds me of the Lord Jesus who was broken and bruised for mankind, that they may have the opportunity to live.  Isaiah 53 is a great passage of Scripture to read about how Christ suffered for us.  


Another Old Treasure:
  BIDE A WEE!

Though the times be dark and dreary,
Thought he way be long,
Keep your spirits bright and cheery,
" Bide a wee, and dinna weary!"
Is a heartsome song.