Here is a wonderful poem that has been written about Thomas Luker. This poem was sent to me by a person who is not into genealogy, but saw my listing. Before the poem is the short email she included. I am happy to share this with all of Luker relations!
I saw your Luker genealogy online, and thought I would send you this old poem about the Luker family I found in an history book.
Don't know if you have a copy, but I thought you might enjoy it.
The words follow the generations of the family and explains how the town of Toms River is named for Thomas Luker. (Falcon is the ship they came to America on, the ferry refers to his occupation of floating the ferry across the river, the Revolutionary War, etc.)
Hope you like it.
Christina
Titled Old Epic Poem
The brothers three
Soared o'er the sea
On the back of a big blackbird (The Falcon)
One wed Roose
They ate Goose
The blackbirid had no legs to run,
But across its breast
was carved "A Falcon"
I came alone
and made my home
In the heart of the Indian land.
It was made of hides,
Stretched on poles,
and sewn by the Indians hand.
They loved "Old Tom"
and gave me my home
On the river's bend.
I like it here
and here will stay.
Until the very end.
Pumha means "White Friend"
So the Indians claim
I've been called "Tom Pumha"
so many times
I'm beginning to think
It's my name.
Luker means river
In Indian tongue,
and along this river,
My new lifes begun.
This little shire
May never know fame,
But at this time
It bears my name.
The bird blessed
Dan and Hester Van
with Becky at my door
With the help of
"Our Maker"
If all goes well
They will have many more.
Dan tilled his land
Reaped by hand
and for his father
The ferry ran.
Het went from farm to farm (Hester Van)
and taught,
the teaching that "Our Lord"
hath wrought
While Becky toddled
from door to door;
Praising "Our Lord"
Forever more.
Tom and Dan will carry on,
For they are hale and hardy.
My time I will give
To help aid my party.
We give thanks at every meal
Whenever we are able,
Thanks to Tom from now on
We will have Grace at our table.
Grace and I have been
Heaven Blessed,
With a little Tommy too,
We fear for his life span
Will be very short,
For at the age of
Sixteen years and four short moons
He's been called to defend our fort. (Toms River Fort)
A bloody battle is raging on,
Against our very own kith and kin,
We never know from day to day,
When the fires will come raging in,
We pray to "Our Maker" in Heaven above,
To let us live through this fiery rage
and let our own dear son
Live to reach a manly age.
Great Grandfather would be saddened,
To see his river's bend,
Once so calm and peaceful,
And now a bloody den.
The Battles now are over,
Our son home at last,
We are asking "Our Maker" in Heaven,
To help us forget the past,
Thanking Him with all our hearts,
Our family all here at last,
To carry on the Luker name,
and Great Grandfather's shire,
To bring to fame.
Tommy and Elizabeth
Soon will wed,
When the churchman comes around
They are asking "Our Maker" already,
For two sons, a Brazilla and a Tom
We are hoping their prayers
Will be answered,
As we are nearing that "Golden Shore:
We will soon be with "Our Maker"
Each day, forevermore.