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.