Poetry

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MY PROSE GOES BACK TO 1948.SHORT POEM ABOUT A MAN THAT RAN,THROUGH CORN FIELD'S OVER DITCHE'S TOO AND TO HIM BOGLAND'S NOT ALL THAT
NEW,THIS MAN WAS KNOWN AS THE MAN IN PLAID HE RAN AND RAN TILL HIS
GOAL WAS HAD,LATE AUGUST INTO SEPTEMBER THEN,BLACKBERRIES WERE OF
THE TASTY KIND,AT THE ODD FARM HOUSE GOT SOME FOOD AS WELL,FACT
OR FICTION THIS IS THE RUNNING MAN,FROM THE DAWN OF DAY WITH A
SPRINTER'S STRIDE ALL MILES DID HIDE,DISTANCE BECAME A PLACE TO
HIDE INSIDE,GOD BLESS US COULD OUR ALMIGHTY FATHER BECOME A FAN,
THAT DAY WHEN THE MAN IN PLAID FOUND HIMSELF THAT WHERE ONLY GOD
COULD SAY,ALL MILES DO LEAD TO MY HEAVENLY DOOR,SO COME ON IN
YOUR RUNNING DAY'S ARE OER;REST YOUR WEARY FEET AND AMEN SO ALL
IN HEAVEN YOU NOW MAY MEET AND GREET A TREAT.
Joe.

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