Patrick Poem by B. V. Dahlen

At a tender age this lad was bound,
And carried far away
Across the sea to a foreign shore,
Much to his dismay.

His captors used him as a slave.
He tilled the fertile loam.
He learned their language and their ways,
While yearning for his home.

One day an opportunity
So suddenly was there,
A chance for several to escape,
An answer to their prayer.

They found a way to leave those shores,
A boat without a sail.
They washed ashore in dreadful shape,
Blown by a howling gale.

No food nor shelter was in sight.
It seemed the end was near.
He led them in a fervent prayer,
And hoped that God would hear.

Out of the dark a herd of swine
Came squealing into sight.
They dashed into a hillside cave
Upon that stormy night.

Those who survived then scrambled up
Into that warming hollow.
The swine were sent by God to lead,
And they knew they must follow.

With food and shelter they survived
To make their own ways home,
God had designs for our young man.
He still had far to roam.

He felt that he was being called.
God had some special plan,
So taking shelter with some monks..
His new life now began.

Many years after that time,
This man, a priest, ordained,
Finally recognized his call..
The path for which he'd trained.


He was ordained a bishop,
And set out to return
To where he'd been a slave before,
To the place of that sojourn.

He went with God's own blessing
Across that storm tossed sea.
He used a lowly shamrock to
Explain the Trinity.

And from his path the serpents fled.
The druids hid in fear.
The kings and chieftains listened.
They knew he was sincere.

He was a shepherd to his flock.
He guided them with care.
He taught them of his loving God,
And of a Virgin fair.

When his Lord had called him home,
And met him with a smile,
Patrick became the patron saint
Of that dear Emerald Isle.