Pop's Poem

A golden heart stopped beating
Hardworking hands laid to rest
God broke our hearts to prove he only takes the best
He looked upon the earth and seen a saddened face
Then he looked around his shearing shed and seen an empty space
The stand was set with narrow comb
It was time to call the shearer home
So come join him with a few drinks or two
Just polish your boots and stay for a stew
Always think of him fondly as he does of you
Remember the best times, the laughter, the song
The good life he lived while he was strong
Now say goodbye and let him go
As the shearer takes his final blow