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by Peter Fraser

A Boy is raised up in the Church and the Word,
Through the Book and by words the message is heard,
The teachings presented are understood and explained,
The gateway provided to a hope unchained.

He came to the Meetings, Home Groups and such,
A Gentleman's heart with a Gentleman's touch,
Baptised in the water he was well on his way
To follow The Lord, to love and obey.

But it's a long road along life's bitter course,
Pulled this way and that by an unseen force.
Teenage distractions, stories and Friends,
Get under the skin, disturbing trends.

And then the Boy starts to follow the road,
Drift away from the security of his abode,
Until his back is turned and can no longer be seen,
He is too far away from where he should have been.

And in due course the Boy is a Man,
He makes his own way as best as he can,
He has chosen the world with all of its trimmings,
Like a puppet moving to the pull of the strings.

And meanwhile near the road a Dad waits all alone,
For a glimpse of his Son lest he return home,
He is waiting with tears by the roadside,
Like a Groom awaiting his long lost Bride.

With Prayer he'll wait as long as it takes,
Till the subdued spirit of his Son awakes,
And makes his way back along the true path,
To the comfort and peace of his Fathers hearth.

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