He was rather awkward, he Wasn't so polite; He was wrong in company Oftener than right. His intentions, though, were good, People used to say, And he did the best he could, In his awkward way. Many things he didn't know, Things you learn in school; People said he wasn't, though, Anybody's fool. He just used his common sense -- He could even pray For the help of Providence, In his awkward way. Though he wasn't very smart, Ev'rybody said, Still he had an honest heart, Had a level head. Never reckless, never rash, Saving day by day, That is how he got his cash, In his awkward way. Certain people used to smile, Thought him rather rough; But the children all the while Liked him well enough. Babies always went to him -- He knew how to play, Understood each little whim, In his awkward way. When the station agent died, Leaving not a thing, To the widow people tried Sympathy to bring. He could think of nothing then, Not a thing to say, But he made her take a ten, In his awkward way. I don't know just what his creed, But I often heard 'Twas religion of the deed Rather than the word. Heaven isn't for the sharp -- I expect today He is playing on a harp, In his awkward way. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...COLORS by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET PORTRAIT OF A BABY by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET THE BIRTH OF VENUS by HAYDEN CARRUTH SURFACES AND MASKS; 4 by CLARENCE MAJOR TO A FRIEND IN THE MAKING by MARIANNE MOORE |