To God be the glory

The Poet

He was out on the highway and the moon was his guide

We stopped for a coffee when I gave him a ride

I said, where are you going he said any place is fine

We'll all be home someday it's just a matter of time

I will always remember how his face showed the years

His hands how they trembled as he fought back the tears

When he showed my a picture of a lady with a child

Then he spoke in a whisper and he began to smile

I was a poet a master of rhyme

She was still young then she was still in her prime

We had a good life there were songs to be sung

She was a good wife she gave me a son

He was a fine boy we watched him grow

Then war shook our nation and he had to go

She died from a heartache when he died in vain

And I die a little more everyday

This picture holds a memory this is all that is mine

For I am a poet a master of rhyme

Written by Bruce Moss

To God be the glory