He fishes and hunts, has a garden & goats
And somehow he never did sow his wild oats!
For years he was known as the barber in town,
That was the place where the men hung around!

His prices were cheap, he did a good job,
So usu'lly he'd have a pretty good mob!
They'd chew and they'd spit and argue awhile,
But most of the time they left wid a smile!

Now he's ninety-two, aunt Lois is gone,
She lingered awhile but God called her home
Three girls & three boys all visit quite much
And make sure they always give him a touch!

Each Sunday will find him driving to church,
And once in a while he might even lurch!
But he doesn't care, that's part of old age,
It's certainly not what we call road rage!

Uncle Walter, the barber, farmer & friend,
You've been thru alot and now near the end
You've lived a full life, continue to trust
In Christ as your Saviour, Heaven's a must!

Donna S. Mullis