Pastor Blake
There’s an old damn an' a Church in a meadow just outta town,
Where the kids go swimming, t'is known as the farmer’s lake.
The old farmer prayed Sunday's, prayed no kid would ever drown,
Chief lifeguard at the damn today, was Pastor Blake.
Church each Sunday, commenced with a nine o’clock call,
Turning up to Church late, snapped the pastor wide awake.
Words weren’t required, the Pastor’s eyes said it all,
And at the altar, stood a fired-up Pastor Blake.
His eyes sparkled welcome, then he would start to pray,
After Service he’d be seen, handing ‘round home-made cake.
Was his way of showing, he just knew what to say
An’ when prayers finished, they all stood with Pastor Blake.
A beer in one hand, and a straw hat atop his bald head,
He stood tall in every way, in no way was he fake.
In his spare time, the Bible was the only book he read.
Was the pride of this town, a good man Pastor Blake.
The old Church still stands, seldom used these days,
Sunday mornings after church, ladies still serve tea an’ cake
Memories still raise smiles at Pastor Blake’s good old ways.
How much we’d love to see, the smile of Pastor Blake.
But Pastor Blake went to war, died in the Battle of the Somme,
A bomb destroyed his little Church dropped from a high up above.
The last sound he heard was the monotonous bomb hum,
Never found Blake’s body, just his beads an’ a glove.
Now there’s weeds round the Church, the door’s long been locked,
Visitors don’t come calling, there’s no one’s hand to shake.
Seems quite a long time since anyone’s knocked,
What I’d give for some time, with my friend Pastor Blake.
Now I know I’ve a friend, way up there in the sky,
I believe, the Good Lord showed him the right road to take.
An’ I still accept, the Lord’s reasons why,
Gee I wish he was still here, my friend Pastor Blake.
But mem’ries hold strong, good folk never depart,
They always retain a place deep in one’s heart.
They induce a smile when you’re struggling an’ down,
An’ when you need a smile then they become the clown.
So if you’re hurt, or just suffering heart ache,
I’d suggest you look up my good friend, Pastor Blake
He don’t lecture or complain 'bout what’s wrong with life,
Just lives his life well, an’ avoids all kinds of strife.
Offers a helping hand if ever he sees the need,
Often talks about the sins of envy an’ greed.
Says we must be alert, be strong an’ stay awake,
Sets the right example, my good friend Pastor Blake.
