Poetry By Ken in Rainbow Colors

Early on any Sunday morning
Shortly after the dawning,
Over hills and wooded dell
Was heard the old church bell.

The preacher rang in the fold
As the steeple bell tolled,
He called in the congregation
For some spiritual meditation.

They strode or rode horseback
Or by wagon in rutted tracks,
They come to hear the preacher,
God's anointed Bible teacher.

The preacher would meet and greet
As they scrapped muddy feet
Then farm families took up places
Smiling from scrubbed faces.

The preacher stood before them
Leading through a gospel hymn
Then they bowed heads to pray
Asking God for a brighter day.

And so the frontier preacher man
Would stand behind his stand
And shaking his Bible in the air
No sullen sinner would he spare.

He preached to paint pictures
Of The Good Book scriptures,
Through words he would strive
To bring the Holy Bible alive.

He shouts loud and preaches soft
And from plank floor to the loft
Nary a whispering could be heard
Except the might of God's word.

Praising God in prayer and song
They worship the morning long,
As the meeting draws to a close
God's grace through them flows.

He would meet them in the yard
After a morning of preaching hard
And was always invited to a dinner,
This preacher man and soul winner.

©Written by: Kenneth J. Ellison 09-08-07

Song title: Unknown to me

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