Through The Door
The church bells ring loudly, the priest smiling mildly,
the crowd throws rice wildly as they walk through the door.
The honeymoon is soon over, to their new home he drove her.
A new yard full of clover and they walked through the door.
Nine months now near spent, for her husband she sent.
To the hospital they went, and they rushed through the door.
The mother, she screamed, the father, he beamed,
the baby, it seemed, had come through the door.
Now five children in all, some short and some tall,
Father! Mother! They call, as they come through the door.
But there is no reply and older ones sigh,
while the younger ones cry, no one’s there at the door.
Why they’re at work of course, to pay for the Porche
and the pool and the boat and the eighteen holes at the course
Each night they come late through the door.
But the couple, now old, their clover needs mowed,
and their lifestyle has slowed, as they stare at the door.
So spend time with your children, hold, hug, love, endear them.
Each day teach and build them, before they leave through your door.
Officer Charles Dale Gray, #9257, 1993 www.LDSCOPS.com