Guarded Memory

Sometimes we walk safely High and Dry, Sometimes in fathomless water, The smart ones turn to Jesus, and fly, In the water, one can but sputter

There was a young fellow,
Who walked in my shoes,
Folks thought he was yellow,
When he'd run from a bruise.

Bigger than most boys,
Of his youthful age,
He played with war toys,
But, was afraid of his rage.

Our National Guard,
Met every week,
They practiced hard,
Perfection to seek.

Learn the art of war,
How to kill, and to die,
Evil to fight, both near or far,
Trusting no need, to question why.

The Captain was pleasant,
We need give them space,
March slightly distant,
No weapons embrace.

Twelve year old children,
We were sort of taboo,
Learning all, without weapons,
Was all we could do.

When I was the right age,
Graduating from school,
God did change the page,
Navy electronics was cool.

There's a moral to this story,
How God, leads us through our life,
We've no need for to worry,
We march to Jesus' Drum and Fife.

AMEN