The Carpenter's Hand
by Kenneth W Bielby
Thursday, January 23, 2003
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There is in my memory a friend that I knew,
Whose friendship I treasured – along with a few,
Who gained my respect by the life that he led,
Whose testimony was more by his life than what he said,
I’ll remember that time, the time that we met,
When I grasped his big hand, and met his firm set,
His smile was as big as his carpenter’s hands,
And the love that he showed could flood our dry lands
The one thing I remembered was this carpenter’s hands,
Their size and their strength could hold like steel bands
But the longer I looked, around and a loft,
I sensed they were tender and gentle and soft,
The guidance they gave and the direction they chose,
And the help to others our God only knows,
They could wrestle with timber, hold a small baby with care,
Give praise to the Father with his hands in the air,
At the time of this writing the end is now past,
for the Father has claimed him and resting at last,
This carpenter’s hand is clasped, from above
By Jesus, the carpenter, the carpenter of love.
True Friendships, are few and far between and any loss leave voids that cannot be totally filled
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|Reviewed by Linda Murray
|A friendship as this one truly was is so hard to find. I could look a life time for such a friend and never find. Great Write.|
|Reviewed by Kay P Devenish
|more tears...it is your gift to touch hearts,you were blessed by your friends friendship but he also I am sure felt the same of you.
Well written poem Ken
love to you and Merle,
Is that park in Ipswich?Nice photo.