In days of long ago, dad would hitch up Pet and, Topsy
away we'd go
To the neighborhood grocery for something to eat.
Me sitting beside dad, on that old wagon seat.
On the way we passed by this "OLD COUNTRY CHURCH",
I always looked it over as I sat upon my perch.
For, you see, in those days we didn't go.
But, Dad believed in God, for he told me so. Once we went
to revival, the preacher came back to talk.
I could tell Dad was going to be like old Pet and balk.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem