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Daddy's Guns
I love guns and I have plenty.
When Daddy passed he had near twenty
He kept them locked in the safe I built,
Loaded and ready with no blood spilt.
For him a gun was a precision tool,
Not to be handled by just any fool.
He taught us all how to use a gun.
Took us to hunt and we sure had fun.
The day before my Daddy died,
He called us each to his bed side
And gave us guns from his collection.
He knew we needed no direction.
We keep them cleaned and polished each
Remembering his final speech.
"Care for this and when you die,
Give it to your son - please try -
Make sure he knows its proper use.
Take it now - and don't refuse."
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