Just A Carpenter's Son



My good friend is a carpenter. 

He told me...my dad and mom- 

He framed the houses down the street.

His words you can count on


He has some friends that are big shots

They’re always in the light

Can’t yawn or breathe...roll up their sleeves 

Without being in sight


Of newsmen, snapshots, interviewers

So well-known are they

That even the illiterate

Can oft be heard to say:


“Hey! I seen this young guy before

Ain’t he been on the tube?”

And others say, “Yeah, I know him

Just seen him in the news”


Our builder-friend is not well-known

He has not received acclaim

For famous deeds nor P.H.D’s

He has no special fame


He just builds homes; friends know he is

The best at his profession

The details are paid attention to. 

Poor work? Out of the question-


His homes are the most luxurious structures

Man has ever built

You’d stare in awe and drop your jaw

If you saw all the skill


Assigned to each and every home.

Impressive in and out.

But he, himself, a humble man

With no degree, no clout


(And like him:)


There was a humble carp’nter’s son

Who came from Nazareth

He also built impressive homes

Not long before His death


The homes He built are everlasting

Any man can buy

And without money, without price

They only have to try


To live a life of virtue, love

And do unto another

What they would like done unto them

Highly esteem their brother


This builder’s son received no honor

Until after he died

His homes are on the market still

He certainly has tried


To sell them, each and every one

But not with much success

Very few will take a loan out

That is what I guess


And make the monthly payments

Of good works and sacrifice

Most people would rather rent a home

Than pay the market price


When you grow up, get married

And then want to settle down

One point of special interest

Is your neighborhood and the town


That you would like to live in

At the start...then down the road

It seems to me you’d want to get

A clean, well-kept abode


So if you want to live in towns

Depressing, somewhat dirty

Just look for one the other framers built

Live in their city


But if you’d like to dwell in one

That’s heavenly and lush

Then buy some land in the last builder’s town

But better rush!



 c aaron

  • Author: pldabbs (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: February 13th, 2018 10:32
  • Comment from author about the poem: No structure ever built by man can supersede the one built by the Son of Man. Man builds houses. The Son of Man built a kingdom.
  • Category: Religion
  • Views: 32
  • Users favorite of this poem: Moom, pldabbs.
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  • swyndell

    This is really just an amazing write. The use of expression through two stories and different times is really great. I loved it!

  • orchidee

    A fine write Christopher.

  • Moom

    Your writing was exquisite and my heart just melted when I realised who it was about. Absoloutely loved it from beginning to end x

  • pldabbs

    This comment is late...Jinxy Jester, orchidee, & Moom- I appreciate your reading and your comments. These are my exact feelings about this master Carpenter. It would do all of us well to have Him take us as understudies where we could be with, walk with, talk to, and learn to perform the same kind of work He is doing. And learn His most salient inborn skill...to love

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