HEROES

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Maureen K Clifford
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Location: Ipswich - Paul Pisasale country and home of the Ipswich Poetry Feast
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HEROES

Post by Maureen K Clifford » Sun Apr 10, 2011 9:05 am

I see a face in the photo, with fly away hair – in the wind it had tousled and twined.
The face that I see is the image of me must be bookends – each side quite defined.
The twilight is falling, a nightingale sings
and stealthy and quiet comes the night creeping in
between the lost buildings, with parks, slides and swings,
in the city where you’re now enshrined.

I followed the map from our home in the west, from the red soil and bare dusty plains
along bitumen ribbons that ran everywhere – with a heart fluttering for my pains.
I heard your voice singing, though your song was done
it was all in my head - my heart beat like a drum
for your song was ended and your race was run –
it is only the memory remains.

Your casket was draped with the red, white and blue with the Southern Cross for all to see.
The last post was played and the notes echoed round, as the sun rose and from earth was free.
A garland of wattle and gum leaves was placed
on the casket that held you in final embrace
and they lowered you into the earth at this place.
And oh how I wished it was me.

There were rows of white crosses to left and to right all arrayed in a faultless formation.
All with a rising sun plainly in sight – for these were the sons of our nation,
but they’ve no more stories of which they can tell
each one lies here in his own private hell
for I doubt that ‘twas heaven on earth where they fell
in that far away desert location.

They called you a hero, told how you saved lives with your quick and timely intervention.
One should never have heroes – far too many lies are told for the sake of convention.
We should tell of the bloke who before us today
lies beneath the flag of his country – ‘no way
would I be a hero’ I hear his voice say
‘I reckon that’s a misapprehension.’

But to me he’s a hero and always will be. A fine soldier, young man, much loved son.
Blue eyed and blonde haired, tall and strong as could be – one whose race had just begun.
One who fought for his country and was proud to serve.
Who would never sit on the sidelines and observe.
Who believed all had rights to freedom unreserved.
Rest in God’s hands, sweet dreams Darl' – Love Mum.


Maureen Clifford 04/11 ©
Last edited by Maureen K Clifford on Sun May 29, 2011 7:18 am, edited 1 time in total.
Check out The Scribbly Bark Poets blog site here -
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/


I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.

User avatar
Maureen K Clifford
Posts: 8047
Joined: Tue Nov 09, 2010 10:31 am
Location: Ipswich - Paul Pisasale country and home of the Ipswich Poetry Feast
Contact:

Re: MUMS HERO

Post by Maureen K Clifford » Mon Apr 25, 2011 11:38 am

The planes did their low fly over this morning for the Anzac Day March here in town and came in right over the top of my place. As the crow flies I am less than half a kilometre from town. Two panicked dogs up the stairs like a rat up a drainpipe. The young fellow just down the road has been getting his dog ready for the march today a gorgeous black shepherd. We have the dogs here at the Amberley Air Force base so you get used to seeing them around the town. We heard the music from the march drifting across...only watched it on TV this year as Mum is not up to going and struggling with the crowds.

Good to see so many young ones marching with their Granddads or possibly Dads medals - I don't think we need fear that our fallen will ever be forgotten...the tradition seems to be getting stronger each year.

Cheers

Maureen
Check out The Scribbly Bark Poets blog site here -
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/


I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.

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