Carpenter’s Poem

(As read by Step-son Eden Martin at the funeral of 

Thomas Ferrell Cunningham)

Let us now praise the carpenter and the things that he made

And the way that he lived by the tools of the trade.

I can still hear his hammer singing ten-penny time

Working long and hard till the day that he died.

He was tough as a crowbar.  He was sharp as a chisel,

Fair as a plane and true as a level.

He was straight as a chalk line and right as a rule.

He was square with the world.  He took good care of his tools.

He worked with his hands in wood, from the crib to the coffin

With a care and a love, that you don’t see too often.

He built houses and sheds and even barns in the barnyard,

Homes on the hill and birdhouses in the backyard.

He said anything that’s worth cutting down a tree for

Is worth doing it right, cause the Lord just loves a 2 by 4.

If you asked him how to build, he would say, like Noah built the Ark.

You’ve got to hold your mouth right, son, and never miss the mark.