A Tribute Poem by Terry Dawson

As autumn slides to winter chill
The westering sun sinks down below the hill
Tilled at last the final rows
The farmer turns and homeward goes.

Brother of ours, of our life part
In whose chest beat noble heart;
Who tilled the fields and reared the stock
You bore the shield, you were the rock.
But now your race of life is run
Your long and winding road is done.
And those along that road you met
Beheld one tough and gruff, and yet
Concealed from the glancing eye
Of the casual passer by
Lay mighty heart made rich by deeds,
That valued work and knew of needs;
Which in the pursuit of Right
Shirked no trouble, feared no fight;
A heart that many things forgave
A heart that gave and gave and gave.
Wholehearted he, without a thought
Great-heartedly unknowing taught
Bold lessons of life to sure inspire,
Those wayfarers that quested higher.

But now
As sunset's golden glow grows dim
I look skyward and remember him
Whose greatest crop is not yet grown;
Who by his life-example has sown
Strong seeds in hearts of men.