Our Dad Poem

Clyde Gustafson

Our Dad

Ilona Kingston, 1995

Nothing but good happens to me.

Was a saying he’d often say.

And when he was a lad.

And his fever was bad

A miracle happened that day.


He was very near death.

And with his last breath.

Said go get the man in my dream

They called old man Ward,

And with the help of the Lord.

Brought him back to life it would seem.

So filled with emotion.

He crossed the ocean.

And preached the word of the Lord.

There they threw him in jail,

With no money for bail.

And only a cell as reward.


Nothing but good happens to me.

As he set out to look for a wife.

He met a young maid.

And soon they were wed.

And she was the joy of his life.


Nothing but good happens to me.

With tears he buried her that day.

He didn’t understand.

As he last touched her hand.

But he knew that it was the Lord’s way.


Nothing but good happens to me.

What an outlook he always had.

And when we miss him.

And the tears our eyes dim.

We can be proud that he was our dad.

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