Candles In The Storm Poem by Robert Edgar Burns

As an MP in the Army
I was on routine patrol.
But that is a misnomer.
Routine never seemed to show.

I was dispatched to the Post Chapel
For a burglar alarm which was nothing new.
A storm with tornadoes cut all power
It was black for miles it's true.

I entered the Chapel from an open door,
Which the priest often forgot to lock.
I held a flashlight and handgun,
With the safety off and uncocked.

There was nothing there but boxes
Of candles that were marked "destroy."
So I thought I'd save someone the trouble
And pass them out to local girls and boys.

Pretty soon all the barracks were lighted.
Because these "blessed candles" shed their light.
Pushing away the gloom and darkness,
From that wet and difficult night.

I was ordered to see the Post Chaplain,
By my Major the very next day.
And since he was a Catholic
He had these words to say.

"Who do you think you are my son,
"To handle such blessed prize? "
"And you are only son a Protestant,
Not worthy to share what's mine! "

I said "I'm the man who shed new light
When your sheep walked in the dark.
When their shepherd was out getting drunk.
It's no wonder your flock has shrunk."

A Sergeant never speaks to a Colonel so,
But my Major backed me up that day.
He told the Colonel no more breaks to him,
If I arrest him for DUI now that's o.k.