He promised his son they would camp out all night, Get up very early before it was light, And go to the lake where the hungry fish bite. But he put off the trip for the plan wasn’t right. After all — he had plenty of time.

He promised his wife they would soon get away For a week, or a night, or just part of a day, To rekindle the love they had let go astray. But his work for the present left no time for play. After all — he had plenty of time.

He promised his daughter he’d teach her to ski. When he bought snow equipment, she shouted with glee. But each year as she dreamed that the ski slopes she’s see, Her skis gathered dust — on deaf ears fell her plea. After all — he had plenty of time.

He vowed to his parents he’d visit them more, And offer his help with a much needed chore. They lovingly looked for his face at the door, And grieved when his absence went on as before. After all — he had plenty of time.

He thought that one day when his life was more slow, He’d find a good church where he wanted to go, And learn from the Bible the things he should know, While talent and goods on the poor he’d bestow. After all — he had plenty of time.

His death came before some folks thought it was due, And it shocked all his family, and friends that he knew. So they buried him high on a hill with a view, To watch through the seasons as life starts anew. After all — he has plenty of time.

Betty Jo Mings bmings@netzero.net