The Day That Ol’ Man Jenkins Died

Trying my hand at some amateur poetry. 🙂

This is written about a man who died during a church service (which actually happened)….and is a 3 part poem. First part is the perspective of the preacher who was preaching, second part is from the little boy in the pew behind the man, third part is from Josephine Jenkins, the mans wife. Hope you like it!

THE DAY THAT OL’ MAN JENKINS DIED

My name is James McMillon and I work a farm these days

I used to be a pastor and led my sheep in praise

I still have sheep, sheep a plenty, but its not quite the same

These sheep are quiet, dont eat as much, and they are way more tame

I miss those days, standin tall, preachin till bout noon

Had no idea I’d be run off, and all so very soon

You see I was there that sad, dark day and remember it so well

I never saw him pass away, I missed it when he fell

I heard the shrieks and all the screams, thought my message was that good

So I started yellin a little louder, thought my words were understood

Now’s a good time to pass the plate, with everyone so aroused

I had no idea what was happening and what our tiny church had housed

I saw sweet Josephine sittin there, with terror on her face

I knew the spirit was workin, so I ran to her with haste

I asked for her weekly offering, just a mere ten percent is all

Thats when I saw him layin there and I swear this is what happened y’all

I thought that he was stoopin down, to try to miss the plate

So I told everyone to hush up now, the offering could wait

I explained that greediness was bad and especially playin dead

And before I knew what was goin on, I used my Bible and struck his head

I saw Betty Lou raise to her feet, and come at me with her purse

I ducked and turn to run thinkin things couldn’t get much worse

But I was wrong cause her husband Jesse came at me pretty fast

I took off down the isle and left that crazy church in my past

I’d say that day caused quite a stir, forced me now to hide

I preached my very last sermon, the day that ol’ man Jenkins died

 

My name is little Billy Barters and I have a funny story to tell

It all happened late last spring, I watched him as he fell

I gotta admit I was cross that day, as we pulled into the lot

I had gotten the switch from dad already cause I called my sister a snot

As I threw myself down in my seat, my view blocked by Josephine’s hat

I conjured up a dirty plan and turned into a sneaky rat

You see, the man was always grumpy, never a kind word to say

Always complaining about something, he was set in his cranky old way

The building is too cold, the music is too loud

I’m gonna stop coming to this church, cause I just can’t stand the crowd

There’s too many kids around, you would hear him mumble

And don’t get me started bout the service running over, his stomach would start to grumble

It started out pretty innocent, a small spit ball or two

But then I had the idea of ideas, you see, pranks were all I knew

I reached into my backback, right on past the good book

I had to be real sneaky, cause dad was giving me the look

I waited for the right moment, waited till he was barely awake

I took my hand from my bag and I pulled out a rubber snake

My sister, she just watched me, didn’t even tattle

She knew paybacks would be awful, after dad gave me the paddle

So just as the preachin reached its hallelujah peak

I laid that snake upon his shoulder and waited for the shriek

At first he didn’t notice, he was noddin off real good

So in udder desperation, I did all that I could

I threw my finger in my mouth and scooped up a finger full of spit

I gave that man a wet willy, as sloppy as wet willys get

His head shot up, he grabbed his ear and much to his surprise

As he turned to see a snake in his hands, I saw terror in his eyes

Many times I look back with a chuckle, and many times I’ve just cried

That was the last prank I ever pulled, the day Ol man Jenkins died

 

My name is Josephine Jenkins and I lost so much that day

My husband, my faith, my sanity, I seem to have lost my way

You see, he wasn’t outgoing, he wasn’t friendly, not many a kind word he shared

But for me, I didn’t need all that stuff cause I knew deep down he really cared

It was the little things that he did for me, things you would never see

Like the day that my daddy died, in the backyard he planted a tree

He bought me the book Gone With The Wind that time when my back went out

He propped me up, fixed me some tea, and asked what the book was about

He always remembered me at holidays, and he always had a surprise

And saturday morning with him by my side, we’d watch the sunrise

That day was a shock to many, I’m sure a day they’d like to forget

But that day makes me look back on my life and I have not one regret

As he laid there so lifeless, I admit I struggled to hold back the tears

I held him for the first time as he had done for me all those years

I knew that it was over, a soft goodbye I cried

I lost my life and my best friend, the day my husband died.