How often we forget,
from whence we came,
with all our earthly trappings.
When our house was filled
with worldly goods and
bundles of Christmas wrappings.
The dark days came and
the thunder roared, and
the goods we had no more.
Of those who came and
shared our home,
no longer knocks at our door.
When all was well and
the future seemed bright, and
of plenty there was end.
The one I seldom saw at my table,
or making constant demands,,
I discovered was my friend.
Poetic Verses By Gamaliel H. Gooding
Copyrighted 2003
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