Ujamaa Christian Poetry

Those Eight Dreaded Words

Those terrible, awful, scary words Mom said;
" Just wait until your Dad gets home today!"
Your big balloon quickly deflated; there was no
reprive from God -we scattered every-which-way.

Sure enough God ensured; after 12 hours at work
Dad drove his 3rd hand truck to our address.
My brother and I were scared, then Dad let out
his summoning whistle to come in and confess.

There were times when the guiltiest one didn't
come in right away I'd stay in the cow pasture.
Darkness set in, the fear of being alone in the
dark was stronger than the impending disaster.

Knowing Dad was waiting for me, I'd come in
the back door with my britches half-way down.
Dad's judgement and punishment were swift -
God blessed him with the fastest belt in town.

My Dad really never hurt me - he always said;
"This hurts me more than it will ever hurt you!"
My loving Dad and I went fishing, played ball,
and horseshoes..now that's what my son and I do!

Written by George Edward Noe


Ujamaa Christian Poetry