My Fathers Lodge – RWBro Dale Moberg

My Father's Lodger on Vancouver & l0th
'Twas a simple Lodge, and yet
On the 3d Wednesday, September through June
It's where he, and his Brothers met.

Donned in suits, and aprons
Men - all of a like - mind
Met - upon the Level
Ego's - left behind

The Lodge -was unpretentious
No marble on the floor
But there were “Men”, of high distinction
At the closing, of the door

Persons - of all occupations
Didn't matter, in the least
ln the Lodge room, ALL - were equal
At the sound, of the gavel, in the East

The weather - did not matter
Snow - or pouring rain
They'd venture out, with their Brothers
To shake their hands, again

It warms - my heart, to picture them
Together, with all - their - peers
ln that friendly Lodge, in Creston, B.C.
That's stood, for all these years

Many Masons have walked, it's hallowed halls
Echoes, from the ceiling - detect
The “Pride” from exams, and lectures
Causing one, to reflect

If the Walls - could talk, what would they say
About those - Masons - of old
And what will they say - about us
Thirty years - down the road

There's empty seats, in the Lodge room
Their lectures, have all been done
But their teachings, carry on
ln the footsteps, of Brothers and Sons