A Boy Called Jack

For C.S. Lewis

When Jack was a boy

They called him Clive

A name he never deserved

No matter how hard he tried!

His friends called him Jack

As did Warren, his brother.

When he was just five,

Pall-bearers came for his mother.

Thank God his broke heart

Mended, not crooked.

Though his sorrow was hard,

He bravely withstood it.

As he grew older,

Things didn't look up.

But it was easy to see,

This young man was tough.

At last he grew old,

Worried, night and day

And found he hadn't hardly

A penny to his name.

BUT GOD, He provided

As Jack trusted he would

And delivered him from his troubles

So that Jack understood:

God is good.

Burdened by experience

And a God-inspired pen

Jack began to write stories

To teach lessons to men

He taught them that Christianity

Is about Christ, nothing more

That people are fallible

And often a bore.

He said, Love everyone we must

Even our deadliest enemies;

For a world in the midst of war

This truth went home for many.

Most wonderful of all

Jack gave us a great gift

The stories of Aslan

And of several kids

These were great classics

Good reads for young and all

They shed much of truth's light

And saved many readers from a fall

Jack is my hero

Both literally and in faith

Even now I love to see little boys

Who bear his special name

I think when I meet him

We'll know each other like old friends

And both set to writing

One of those good old stories that never end.