Posts Tagged ‘Paris Ohio’

Antique bed.[1]

Beside a bed he gladly said,

His prayers years ago,

Or knelt

In prayer very near there

At a chest three feet long or so.[2]


A dark room.[3]

In a room his soul to groom,

He went alone in student years.

Dim den,

That praying place to seek God’s face,

With voice and silent tears.


A new floor.[4]

A concrete floor and nothing more

He paced and prayed and praised.


Satellites, revealed answers sealed;

His prayers with arms upraised.


Southern woods.[5]

Piney woods testified the goods

His inmost man possessed.

In path,

Calmly praying, trees heard him saying,

“Thank You” for meeting needs confessed.


Old school ground.[6]

Abandoned ground his heart next found;

And paths that lay beyond.

Night, Day,

In mattered not, quiet he sought,

Memories of triumphs were fond.



White solitude, cool latitude,

It really doesn’t matter…at all.


Pleas, a song (off far from the throng)

To problems gigantic and tall.

– eab, 7/77

[1] Bed at home near Rushville, Ohio as a child.

[2] This would be the cedar chest Dad built when he was 17.

[3] The dingy old Men’s Prayer Room at God’s Bible School.

[4] The (then) new tabernacle (now CEC) at Hobe Sound.

[5] The piney woods behind our house on James Street.

[6] The land west of the old Public School in Paris, Ohio.

[7] The back lot (and park near the house) in Akron.

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Clear, blue skies over school house roofs,

Literary names and geometric proofs,

The notes of teachers and the student’s goofs,

All and more to remember, from inspiring September.


Corn, brown, tall with tasseled bloom at top,

Apples, ruby red, cider, cream of that crop,

Hickory, butter, walnuts suspended to drop,

These blessings I remember, from joyous October.


Chilly, gray days, bare structured, gray trees,

Sketched by Jack, dewy light panes freeze,

Thank God for bounty, and eat all you please.

Happiness to remember, from great November.


The previous three months spell the word SON.

I’m so glad God had and gave us One.

And when gifts and visiting are all done,

Him I would remember, December till December. – eab, 12/7/70


Written in Paris, Ohio

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