My Father the Pole!


The barn was struck by lightening

The night that he was born

It was all very frightening

Granny to the church rushed him that morn

Her intention to bless him would be his fate

This newborn was at death’s gate

Into the font this baby she did drop

But buoyant he floated right to the top

It seemed all through his amazing life

All the happiness and strife

Even during days of war

Concentration camp and more

A ray of light shone on his head

Since the love of granny’s hand

And since that eventful morn

Upright forever he would land

Living life in a foreign country

Wedding a girl of raven haired beauty

Four children he had good and proud

And happiness he found

Few drops of holy water newborns are blessed

This child had a font full more than the rest

Lucky he was all his life through

Finally dying at age 92!.

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