On the isle of Futuna
Father Peter did toil,
To plant the Gospel
In hard rocky soil.
The converts were few
But the hardships were great.
The king’s son converted
Peter gained the king’s hate.
For all of his efforts
Father Peter was killed
It looked like his efforts
Would now be stilled.
But up in heaven
He continued to pray,
And the isle of Futuna
Is Catholic today.
Click here to read more of my poems