MR. GORDY, MY FRIEND
A
wrinkled brow, a weathered face
Showed
years of toil and wear
And ‘neath
the top hat, black and tall
Were strands
of grayish hair.
Suited up in black,
this man
Stood handsome, straight and
tall
And next to him this three year...old
Seemed very, very small.
The shoes he wore were shiny black
So she asked her mother,
“Why does he wear them everyday?
Does he have no others?
The tall, mysterious stranger
Who befriended this little child
Became her friend and stole her heart
And brought to her a smile.
joyce simpson cathey
THE BLEEDING STRANGER
Her
things were scattered about the floor
When a knock was heard upon the door.
She turned the latch and swung it wide
A gent’ was standing just outside.
In her heart she felt the hurt,
For there was blood upon his shirt.
The redness of the blood that flowed
Had stained the paleness of his clothes.
She quickly ran to fetch her mother
To help this man, this bleeding stranger.
The words her mother heard then shocked her
“Come quickly, mom,
he needs a doctor.”
Mother, daughter, hand in hand
Ran to help this ailing man.
But when they approached
the open door,
The man was standing there no more.
They searched the house and all around
But the bleeding
stranger was never found
joyce
simpson cathey
THE DARK FIGURE
In her room she sat
and played
Her books were strewn about
the floor,
And knowing not he watched
her
from behind the closet door.
She stood and turned to leave the room
when her mother called her name
It was then she spied the tall dark figure
as out of the shadows it came.
Her little heart began to race
then she began to scream
As down her tiny cheeks it was
the tears began to stream.
“I couldn’t see his face,” she cried,
as she held tightly to her Dad,
“I know it wasn’t Mr. Gordy
‘cause he seemed so awfully bad.”
“I do not like him momma
and
hope he never comes again,
‘cause
I fear this man who has no face,
with
clothes as black as sin.”
joyce
simpson cathey
