In the vicarage garden on a bench <br /> The frail old vicar sits in an autumn breeze <br /> Overcoat, scarf, hat and gloves against the cold <br /> Pondering on the gifts which God bestowed. <br /> <br /> Gifts of wife, children, friends and neighbours <br /> He gives thanks for his wondrous life <br /> Giving service to others without complaint <br /> Working in his Lord's vineyard harvesting souls. <br /> <br /> He feels a pain in his chest that quickly passes <br /> And his life like sunlight at dusk begins to fade <br /> Then from the shadows step two familiar figures <br /> His cherished parents long since passed onto Heaven. <br /> <br /> They smile and hold out their hands to him <br /> " Time for you to come, my son, " says his father <br /> And gently they take the old vicar by the hand <br /> Leading him forth towards a bright dazzling light.<br /><br />Colin Ian Jeffery<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/vicarage-garden/
