The Old Church

This is the poem I wrote about the Kaskaskia church.  It was named after the Kaskaskia River that is just 3 miles away.  I wrote this after the church had closed.  My twin brother and I along with 7 others purchased the church and after renovation and modernization, (bathrooms and A/C), we re-opened the church.  I am now the Pastor.  We started with 6 members in 2006 and now we have about 100.
 
THE OLD CHURCH
 
I sat down to write some words of rhyme
As I've done so many other times
But my thoughts returned to years ago
To a little church where I used to go
 
It's history goes back many many years
It survived a fire and was built back with tears
My memory goes back to 49
When my folks took me there, for the very first time
 
I attended this church through 63
Its Pastors are still very vivid to me
Brother Pepple was there and Brother Heckman
Willard Grant and Walter Westrom
 
Then I got married and moved away
But, I'd drive by on Special days
I'd get out and walk around
And remember the dinners on the ground
 
Bible School and Talent Nights
Revival meetings and childhood fights
All these things, I remember there
But now, it's standing old and bare
 
If the walls could talk in this old church
They could tell of things that once had worth
Like when the  Gospelaires would sing
And Walter Shipp would do his thing
 
As I've stood and looked from the pulpit's view
I remember those who sat in the pews
There was Aunt Florence Eagleton and Uncle Fred
Charlie Wilkerson and his shiny bald head
 
The Roger's clan of Lon and Dorse
Uncle Sam and Aunt Lilly Morris
I remember all the Childress's there
I couldn't begin to list them all here
 
There was Blondie, Janet, Bud, Jane and Rose
On and on the memory list goes
Charlie Knapp and his wife May
Charlie Denton and his wife Faye
 
Aunt Myrtle Childress and Uncle Jim
I spent a lot of time with them
Lain and Effie Dunaway
Most all of these have passed away
 
Most of the kids who used to attend
Have now grown up to be women and men
Who now have grandchildren of their own
My, how the years have rapidly flown
 
These kids who attended Kaskaskia Church
Now have gray hair, some walk with a lurch
But these memories too, may fade in time
So I wrote mine down, in words of rhyme
 
In a way, it's sad to see churches close
Where no hymns are sung and no one goes
But, I thank the Lord and, remember with joy
We went to this church, when I was a boy.

Oldbiker