Below is the poem entitled Little Josh which was written by poet
Bingham. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.
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It was a cold, rainy morn,
the day little Josh Weaver was born.
No one could know what could possibly lay in store,
or what kind of child Mrs. Weaver bore.
As the years passed and Josh began to grow,
certain special talents began to show.
He had a voice that could soothe both beast and man,
and a touch that could heal better than any doctors can!
There are some things simply not intended for man to understand,
and Little Josh was certainly a phenomenon across this land.
But every time the boy would heal some one it seemed to take his strength away,
and like most kids his age Little Josh was not afforded a time to play.
It seemed the only thing Little Josh ever knew,
was sickness and caring for others as he grew.
Then one day out side his home a crowd appeared,
comprised of many who were sick and lame, too much for Little Josh his mother feared.
She tried so hard to make them understand and leave,
but Little Josh couldn't stand to see people in pain or have them grieve.
Outside he called to the saddened crowd, let me see what I can do,
gather round and all hold hands and hold mine too.
As the healing poured through the crowd that day,
little Josh was taken away.
What a gift, he freely gave,
what a heart, so big and brave.
This story reminds me of another man whose life he freely gave,
and His gift of love was so all that are lost have the chance to be saved.