The Old Man

The old man had finished raiding the garbage cans outside Tines' store,
A few crusts of bread and a bit of sausage, his belly screamed for more,
Walking away he shivered, as he hid the book from the wind and rain,
For it was the only thing left from his past that in his possession remained!

The church's centers for the homeless and downtrodden were crammed full,
So once more, the old man gave the large cardboard box a big pull,
And down it fell to cover the homeless gent to keep him warm at night,
While all around him people walked in apathy aware of his lonely plight!

They were too busy worrying about their lives, to take the time to care,
Or else the lust for power and money, had left them no time to share,
Governments had raised the tax and condemned the older shops,
And farmers had lost their farms and drought had destroyed the crops!

The old man opened the book and his rough and broken voice was heard,
He didn't need a light to read by, 'cause he had memorized every word,
Someone close beside him said, 'Could you speak that bit once more?'
'Cause the guy lying across from me on the papers, has a mighty loud snore!'

So the old man 'turned' back the page and read again from the start,
And his voice rose in pure joy as he recalled the words to heart,
And the tired and hungry men listened to the stories that he spoke,
They thought that maybe in their miserable lives there was a ray of hope!

The old man regaled them with stories of the cruel, the brave and the strong,
Of a king that ruled in power and greed while a boy soothed him in song,
He told of strange places were people toiled and royalty made them slaves,
Of the butchering of little babies and the Tyrant who laid them in their graves!

The old man stopped then suddenly and the others heard him speak,
'Are you sure it is me that you need?' 'Am I the one you seek?'
The men saw then a light coming from where there should be none,
And lifting the box, they searched, for the old man he was gone!

His threadbare coat was lying and on it was the old man's book,
And one of the men had a few matches, striking it they had a look,
The cover said, 'The Holy Bible', and one of the men began to read,
The others sat down to listen and the Sower planted more seeds!

©Jane Richer
Nov. 15/2007

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012



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Date: 3/7/2012 4:51:00 PM
Your poem is very imaginative. Good job!
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Jane Richer
Date: 3/7/2012 8:18:00 PM
Thank you Meredith, without imagination our writing would be very stale and stagnant; somewhat like our politicians! lol Love Jane
Date: 2/21/2012 12:22:00 PM
Thank you for sharing your poetry . It was a pleasure to read Jane. Love, Carol
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Jane Richer
Date: 2/25/2012 10:14:00 PM
Thank you Carol it was a pleasure writing it! Love Jane
Date: 2/20/2012 7:47:00 PM
I thoroughly enjoyed reading your poem, Jane. Such a touching, wonderful story you have told. Love, Kim
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Jane Richer
Date: 2/20/2012 7:58:00 PM
Thank you Kim, I wanted to let people know that even to the most wretched and poor amongst us, God still did miracles every day! The only Bible someone may ever read is us! Love Jane
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