Dave The Poet
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My Friend

6/7/2010

1 Comment

 
This bible of mine is a dear old friend, we go back a very long time

It’s life was faithfully there for me, through story psalm and rhyme

It’s cover all torn and tattered, it’s pages all brown and bent

He gave of himself so willingly, as his insides slowly rent

We’ve been through so much together, the bitter and the sweet

Travel companions on the road of life, where joy and sorrow meet

Bits of his pages have broken away and landed upon my clothes

Like crumbs of fondest memories, that only heaven knows

He shared my inner most secrets, my private hopes and fears

The pages all yellow and faded, a result of countless tears

Must I really part with him, will a new friend be the same?

Will new life spring from his pages, will he even know my name?

The time has come to say goodbye, in spite of his earnest plea’s…

“I stood with you, as you poured out your soul, with shaking in your knees”

“We’ve been together by day and by night, you can’t just let me go!”

“What if your new friend just isn’t the same, doesn’t know all the things that I know?”

“I doubt he’ll fall open to Matthew, where you broke my binding’s back,

somewhere in the minor prophet’s will be where his seam will crack.”

“Well OK, if there’s no other way, I guess I’ll retire to the mountains…

tucked away on a musty old shelf, while you drink from another’s fountains”

“You know the spot, it’s the “old bible’s home” where we sit and share our stories

about the good old days, when our leather was fresh, with tales of triumph and glories”

Hey old friend, I’ll come and see you…every once in a while.

Over coffee, I’ll read your torn pages, I’m sure you’ll still make me smile!

DK

This is a poem that I wrote about my old bible that I retired in around January 2000. My wife gave me a new bible in February 2000 so that is how I remember the date. My family has an old cabin up in LakeArrowhead that my dad bought in 1964. There is a bookshelf up there that has all of our old retired bibles on it including the first one my mother ever had. Somehow I got this vision of them all sitting there talking and sharing stories. I remember my dad sharing many wonderful spiritual thoughts and lessons at the cabin. The mountains always seemed to bring the best out in my dad. I remember him gazing up through the tall pines at the deep blue sky. I remember him commenting and saying something about the wonder and beauty of it all. It seems very proper to have all of our old bibles up there in that setting.



1 Comment
Rena
12/22/2010 03:18:41 pm

Love this!

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