I first published this poem a few years ago. My father wrote it in 1991, and he passed away in 2009 at the of 95. How the word must have changed for him from horse and buggy to the computer age. But, now, I am experiencing the same thing . As we were coming home the other day from Christmas shopping, we were almost hit by careless drives no less than 10 times in a five mile trip. I decided to re- publish this poem of Dad's because it seemed so appropriate. Here is is as published several years ago.
"Slow down, you move too fast, you've got to make the morning last."
My father was not an educated man, at least by years spent in school, but he was very astute, and very religious, and he loved to write. His meters might not have been perfect, but his poems always were very philosophical and whimsical in nature. While going though some things recently, I found this poem that Dad wrote in 1991.
Back in the horse and buggy days, folks were quite different in all of their ways-there was much work to do.
But, we had a lot of fun.,the days seemed much longer from Sun to Sun.
We milked eight cows and walked a mile to school
To study our lessons and learn the Golden Rule.
We never had to worry about the work getting done
The days seemed much longer, we never had to run.
The day we're living in seems mighty fast
makes a fellow wonder how long he can last.
It's hurry, hurry, hurry, the whole day though
Just sleep a few hours and begin anew.
in bygone days, before we had cars,
There was very little said about a trip to Mars.
Folks didn't worry about the out space
Because when you traveled by foot, you ain't' a going no place.
Everyone had Neighbours and friends galore,
But now, we don't know the man living next door
We pass him on the street and what a disgrace
When we say to our wives, " I know him someplace"
Now, a church was built in each community,
Which gave every individual an opportunity
To gather each Sunday in one great throng,
And hear the Word preached in sermon and song.
The church of today has no place for the mourners,
It's located downtown on a busy street corner
Not much there for the hungry soul.
But that doesn't' matter if your name is on the roll.
Just put some money on the plate when it passes your way,
And that will see you through until the Judgement day.
She' a changing world, and She's gaining speed,
Not much love shown for the man in need.
Things have changed a lot in the past forty years,
Causing many people to live in fear
Everyone worries about something in the air
That will blast us to -only the lord knows where.
Now, I would like to see everything slowed down.
And buy a rubber tired buggy to take me to town.
Old an old donkey can't travel the speed of sound.
But he will keep your feet much closer to the ground.
Old Dobbin could travel five miles per hour,
Which is really not too bad for one horse power.
Now we must travel ninety or so,
Or we get it from behind that we are going too slow.
When we old timers take a trip to the city,
And see thousands rushing we think "what a pity"
There are many more things that one could write
In trying to describe this man made plight.
But, it wouldn't change this awful fright.
May God have mercy on those in the race
Carl L Starchman