Just for the Hell of It

The Least of These

An ole cowpoke came riding up to the Reamsville church one day
tied his horse up to a tree, didn’t have a lot to say,
But then he didn’t come for talk’n, and he never looked my way
after all ’twas on a Sunday, he just came so’s he could pray.

He smelled a lot like sheep dip, on his boots that weren’t clay
he may have been a Christian, smell that man a mile away,
The ladies, dressed for Heaven, turned and looked the other way
after all ’twas on a Sunday, he just came so’s he could pray.

He was sure hard of hear’n, a loud Amen was all he’d say
in the middle of some report, to the Preacher’s dismay,
The ladies in the front row just wished he’d go away
after all ’twas on a Sunday, he just came so’s he could pray.

Then they all stood for the sing’n, the Preacher’d had his say
but instead of his selection, that cowpoke began to bray,
You could probly hear that sound for most a mile away
after all ’twas on a Sunday, he just came so’s he could pray.

Then he coughed; started over; silence filled the church that day
from the throat of that old man came an Angel’s voice they say,
His head bowed ore his bible, his hand raised to God that day
after all ’twas on a Sunday, he just came so’s he could pray.

When he finished with the sing’n; still he never looked my way
merely put his hat upon his head, and turned to walk away,
The least of these had come to visit; now he slowly rode away
after all ’twas on a Sunday, he just came so’s he could pray.

© 2003, Ivan L Biehn

 

Ivan told us: This particular poem (idea) came from an actual individual who attended our church. Could sing like an angel, but
couldn’t hear it thunder.


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