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The Question

The Question

The shadows deepened and the night approached;
As she called to him once more.
Her dim eyes searched the empty space;
There behind the door,

Her wrinkled hand found his at last;
As she hungrily searched his face;
A faded bedspread wrapped her around;
With a trim of tattered lace.

"Harvey are the children home?
They should be home by now."
"Nan needs to do her lessons
And John must milk the cow."

Tears gathered in the old man's eyes;
As he felt so all alone.
Their Son had been lost in war;
And Nan had children of her own.

"Harvey are the children home?
You know I worry so,
The clouds are gathering in the east.
And the sun is sinking low."

The days move quickly, soon you find.
Your life is almost done.
Oh, search and find and bring on home;
Your daughter and your son.

It matters not how much you have,
Or what you've done or been.
The only thing that really counts,
Is praying your children in?

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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