Friday, January 02, 2026
Ghost writers
An old preacher went eating outOne hot and windy dayAt the RSL he restedAs he went along his way.
When all at once a mighty groupOf believers he sawPlowing through the RSLAnd in their mighty door
They hugged with joy their pastor then
They shared a bounteous meal
Their faces shone with loving joyAnd their love for God was real.
A bolt of care went through himAs they spoke of sermons dryFor the young repeating pastorHad wrought their mournful cry
Yippie-yi-oYippie-yi-yayGhost writer don't be shy!
Their faces gauntTheir eyes were blurredTheir shirts all soaked with tears The sermons all were secondhandHis ministry just so drear.
"He preaches on foreverIn that pulpit each weekWithout a gospel centred lifeNor with a heart to seek."
As they often sat down with himHe heard one call his name'If you wanna save your soulFrom stress just trust in Jesus name:
Then, pastor change your ways todayFor God cares for His ChurchHe will not suffer fools for long That do his church much hurt"
Yippie-yi-oYippie-yi-yayGhost writers don't be dry.
Ghost writers make me sigh Ghost writers make me cry
# posted by Groseys messages @ 3:02 PM 
