Poem of Remembrance

November 15, 2017

 

I want to tell you a story,

About a man who came back from war,

To meet his son for the very first time,

At the tender age of four.

 

He’d been out to fight for our country,

While his wife had to stay back at home,

Walked around in lands far away,

With his army comrades they did roam.

 

Sent in to save our freedom

Our troops gone to lands overseas

In an effort to push back the enemy

with not very much expertise

 

She went to work in the factory

putting together ammunition

to help our troops in that country

and bring us all to fruition.

 

Then home she would go, and her son she would feed

with rations and make do and mend

While he fights with his friends for our country,

and hopes this war would come to an end.

 

The sirens would go, and the bombs they would drop

to the anderson shelter they fled

The sounds of the aircraft firing guns, they would pop

and drop ordnance above his small head.

 

“When is this going to end Mum?”

“Sometime I hope son, very soon.”

“It’s the 11th of November, and I heard a rumour

that they will all stop fighting by noon.”

 

The troops find a little red flower, 

and the clock in the town starts to chime 

They look around in the middle of no-mans land

and eleven o clock is the time.

 

It’s now very many years later

and we owe our soldiers a great debt

So we made them a very big promise

That we would never, ever EVER forget.

 

 

Brett Jackson (c) 2017 - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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