The Perfect Home
The Perfect Home
A perfect home should be both soft and warm,
Though not concerned with perfect symmetry.
It should be strong to stand against the storm
That every home will face eventually.
A perfect home requires the perfect guard,
A father who protects his wife and young.
Although he isn’t perfect, he works hard
And in his perfect home his praise is sung.
A perfect home is beauty brought to life,
The place where all the world begins and ends.
For this it needs a mother and a wife;
On her, perfection of the home depends.
And in this world where danger still exists,
In perfect homes a perfect faith persists.
Feed My Sheep
Feed My Sheep
When I was just a boy of eight or nine,
My father left his sheep for me to tend.
He said the job of feeding them was mine,
And that on me his sheep would now depend.
I worked all day to feed the hungry sheep;
I felt so small beneath the heavy task.
I cried each night before I fell asleep–
“Oh father, won’t you help me?” I would ask.
My father soon returned and said, “Well done.
These sheep now know you love them; they are yours.
Just walk and let them follow you, my son,
To pastures green, away from heavy chores.
These sheep will follow you who’ve loved them best,
To where they’ll feed themselves, and you may rest.