2018-07-11 / Religion

The gentleman from Colquitt was my friend

submitted by W.A. 'Bill 'Grow

Editor's note:

This was sent to me by my classmate, Billy Grow. The poem was written by Skip Miller about a friend, David Grow, brother of Billy, when David died. Skip just passed away and was at the Pearly Gate.

David’s Song

He worshiped with the tribe from FSU

To the ghost of Oceola he was true

His fashion statement was bold

In his cup of garnet and gold

And the gentleman from Colquitt was my friend

He came from simple folk and small town ways

And he loved to tell the tales of by–gone days

And once he went half crazy

And served us all Swamp Gravy

And the gentleman from Colquitt was my friend.

For years he toiled in the shadow of Wall Street

Where he earned the respect of all that he would meet

He used his genius of math whiz

To make his mark in the finance biz

And the gentleman from Colquitt was my friend.

He was a Thursty Monty Yahoo thru and thru

And a father and granddad too

And he always beamed with pride

Whenever Jean was by his side

And the gentleman from Colquitt was my friend.

Now someday I’ll march up to the Pearly Gate

And St. Peter will stop me and say, “Now you just wait.”

“Is there someone here who knows you,

Who can guide you as you go thru?”’

And I’ll proudly say – That gentleman from Colquitt is my friend.

And that good old boy from Colquitt will show me in.

He came from simple folk and small town ways

And he loved to tell the tales of by–gone days

And he always beamed with pride

Whenever Jean was by his side

And the gentleman from Colquitt was my friend.

And I miss that son of Miller County now and then.

Skip Miller
October 2002

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