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A Man Called John John was a man The song I best remember Whom I really did know He was always singing Whose life was caught short Is 'The King is coming' Not many years ago. In my soul still ringing. And so I want to tell Soon he was not able A little about his life To sing anymore How he blessed his friends Cancer taking it's toll Though now in heaven so bright. Eating through to his core. As I best remember He could no longer move When we first did meet Without the help of friends He was gifted in music And deep within his heart And kept a pretty good beat. He knew he wouldn't mend. He was going to college One bright and sunny day A part of his life to be Unto me he said Singing the gospel message I would like to go outside With simplicity. So we helped him out of bed. It wasn't very long He was in his wheelchair That the doctors found Enjoying warmth from the sun A tumor in his leg Maybe thinking of his past With cancer all around. Remembering how he could run. Several years went by One day while at his home Cancer continued to spread While I was visiting there One of his legs was taken He began to struggle greatly But he had no dread. Gasping hard for some air. John was always joyful Then he said to his wife With his lovely wife It is very hard to breathe Determined to make the best Then his head slumped over Out of this earthly life. From this world he did leave. So with crutch in hand For John the King came early He continued to sing To release his body from pain Songs of thanks and praises Now he's singing in heaven To his heavenly King. There forever to remain. His heart was full of love Indeed the king is coming Including some humor too For all who live on earth A pair of socks not needed And your faith in Jesus As one would always do. Gains you a heavenly berth. |
Additional Notes:
Note 1: This poem is in two columns as you probably know now. Read left column first.
Note 2: Only periods were used at the end of each verse with the exception of one line(two ''). This was my design as each line seemed to have it's own natural pause and I felt it looks a lot better and in my opinion the story moves much more smoothly without any punctuation within the verse.
This poem is a tribute to John Tomilson. He attended LABC(Los Angeles Baptist College), now the Master's College in Newhall, So. Calif. As I best recollect John died of cancer in 1973 about the age of 25. I first met him in 1968. A memorial service was held for him at the Master's College in the gymnasium. As you have realized from the poem I (and my oldest son, Tim, age
) were at his house at the time of his death).
This poem is a tribute to John Tomilson.
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