01Apr
The Masonic Ring – A Poem
The Masonic Ring Those men who help my dad each day, They wear those Mason rings. A Square and Compass set in gold, The praise of which I sing. My dad, he hurt his back you know, One cold and wintery day. He slipped and fell upon the ice, The insurance would not pay. And since that time those rings I see, On hands that help us much. With mowing lawns and hauling trash, Each day my heart they touch. My Mom she cried from happiness,...
