The Old Wooden Post

Just an old wooden post,
          That's all that is left,
A lonesome reminder
          Of what was once just a fence.

A monument true
          To simpler times,
When fathers and sons,
          Worked side by side.

Now the old wooden post
          Struggles in pain,
To stand up proud
          Against the wind and the rain.

The wires are rusted.
          The staples are loose.
Temptation to fall,
          Still sternly refused.

For the old wooden post
          Witnessed the day
When he and the others
          Stood tall and straight.

Perfectly lined!
          Perfectly true!
They held their position!
          They let nothing through!

True to his purpose!
          True to his name!
The old wooden post
          Has not struggled in vain!

                                               Copyright 1998 by Layne S. Porter