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On That Day (Poetry Pantry)



By Betty Henderson



Live life my lovely lady on that day,
When black is worn and shovels turn fresh ground;
I scribe, stand strong, allow our sons to play.
Old men in suits with books are bound to pray,
Lanterns will dim and light will not be found;
Live life my lovely lady on that day.
Young saints still wet with words will warn to reign,
Your ears will hear it’s time to keep kids bound;
I scribe, stand strong, allow our sons to play.
For you, my wife, you’ll want your hair to gray,
Don’t let cold grief silence our children’s sound;
Live life my lovely lady on that day,
I scribe, stand strong, allow our sons to play.
With ink and feathered quill I fight for life,
Not mine, you see, but yours and Luke’s and Paul’s;
Don’t buy the lie I died and stole your light.
With string and skin and twigs I built a kite,
It needs to fly in sunlit days of fall;
With ink and feathered quill I fight for life.
Don’t veil your heart and lose our hope of flight,
Remember sure the power of our call;
Don’t buy the lie I died and stole your light.
Some eyes will moist and yours might wish to cry,
I write my prayer for strength where boys stretch tall,
With ink and feathered quill I fight for life;
Don’t buy the lie I died and stole your light.
I scribe, stand strong, allow our sons to play;
Live life my lovely lady on that day.
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