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by Kings Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Environment · #456944
I was raised in a poor family of ten children in rural Kentucky.

Richly Poor

As one of ten children I grew up in poverty.
We were dirt poor but I had a loving family.
My Dad worked in a hot foundry every day.
Over time this job made his aging body pay.

He got Brass chills on a hot summers day.
He would shake all over in a freezing way.
My dear Mom did her best for us each day.
To raise the family in a true Christian way.

In a laundry tub she wash clothes as means.
She used a Scrub board and soap to clean.
All these reasons are why to this very day.
I have become this person who often prays.

Honoring and respecting people for not wealth.
For who they are and the respect in their self.
To be truly poor is to excel in a rewarding love.
They who love receive blessings from above.

No price for love can be set or easily given..
Whether rich or poor it's a necessity for living.
Strong love can give to a person much wealth.
This wealth is respect one feels for their self.

By: Kings




© Copyright 2002 Kings (tazzy1228 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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