Nigel
T'was middle of winter
when Nigel were born,
his Mum had him early
at crack of the dawn.
His Dad were right proud
as he went on his way,
and "Nigel for P.M."
was toast of the day.
Nigel would gurgle
and giggle and glug,
while Dad were out supping
his beer at the pub.
The days went to weeks
and the weeks went to years
and Nigel grew older
mid love fun and tears.
But as he grew up
so slender and tall,
t'was clear that he wouldn't
make P.M. at all.
For Nigel was simple
and to all it was plain,
he wouldn't be clever
and hadn't much brain.
Dad were demented
and Mother were sad,
but he was a happy
and loveable lad.
He helped the old ladies
and looked after kids
and directed the traffic
at foot of the bridge.
He often ran errands
for old and infirm
and poured out his goodness
with care and concern.
He loved all the animals
both great and small
and was often seen helping
the vet on a call.
Then one day our Nigel
was taken right bad
and doctor was sent for
to look at the lad.
The doctor looked grave
as he stood by the bed
and all he could do was
to shake his wise head.
"The lad has a fever,
it's serious" he said
and early next morning
poor Nigel were dead.
The whole village mourned
as they laid him to rest,
for everyone knew
he was one of the best.
The Vicar said prayers
as the clock struck eleven
and poor Nigel's soul
was on course for Heaven.
Now just as he got
within sight of the gate,
the voice of St. Peter said
"Nigel you're late".
"We wanted you here
some two years ago
to help us control
the great heavenly flow".
"Now that you've come
a little bit late,
we'd like you to take up
a post at the gate."
So Nigel was doing
what he liked doing best,
helping old ladies
and kids and the rest.
Then one day when NIgel
was tending the flock,
he suddenly stared
in amazement and shock.
His Mother and Father
came strolling along
with a heavenly host
that had burst into song.
"What on earth happened"
he said to his Dad
"you don't come together
unless it's real bad".
Dad looked quite serious
and Mother were mad
as they retold the story
to their little lad.
"We'd just made it back
from a few days in France
and were out in the garden
tending the plants."
"As Father reached out
for a rosebud to smell,
he tripped over bucket
and fell down the well".
Mum was so shocked when
she saw Dad's mistake
that she went for policeman
and tripped over rake.
Though Nigel was happy
to see Mum and Dad,
he knoew that his friends
back on earth would be sad.
Now Dad were right pleased
with his little lad
he never made P.M.
but gateman wern't bad.
Mum was so proud
of her only son
whose goodness had made him
St. Peter's new chum.
Together in heaven
there is endless delight
with Mother, Father
and son all in white.
Take note of the lesson
in this simple rhyme,
that earthly ambitions
don't last for all time.
T'is better to store up
great treasures above
by living this life out
in goodness and love.
