Dedicated to the memory of Phillip Andrew Ackerman, the grandfather I never knew, his ship went down in WWII.
Would we have called him Pop
while bouncing on his knee
and begged him not to stop
through giggles filled with glee?
Might his mane have turned
the most majestic white
suggesting he had earned
a respite from the fight?
Was he filled with fear
when his ship began to sink
and slowly disappear
beneath the briny drink?
How many have to grow
without the guiding hand
of a parent they will never know
how could they understand—
it makes me wonder why
we face the fields of gore
and let good people die
in someone else’s war.
10 comments:
Just an honor to be the first to comment on this poem 'honarat mors'this wonderful lyricist who underates himself immensely in referring to himself as an 'average poet' all of Robert Cameron Hazelton' poems and there are many do have a voice of their own, even without his name to it one can recognize one of his poems as they are written in an unique way, he reminds me very much of James Stephens at his best as he does write in that sort of a beautiful way, makes me want to revisit his site to read more of his enjoyable poems.
Francis Duggan
Excellent post. Average? I disagree.
Yeah all wonder such a thing
But still the war sounds ring
If all would just say no
Maybe it would stop its flow
A lovely tribute to your grand father.
such a great poem--very beautiful
Hey Francis, thanks you make me blush, I'm glad I found your blog and will be dropping by there often.
And thanks to RI, Pat, DD and LP, I really do appreciate it.
Enjoyed your thoughts and must agree that you are no average poet.
=)
A beautiful tribute to so many lost....and so much loss for young ones that never had the opportunity to truly know them. Hope you had a great Memorial Day Bob! :-)
Thanks a lot Sue and Carrie, boy everybody really made my weekend with all these great comments, thanks!!!
Makes me wonder too...
http://www.kimnelsonwrites.com/2012/05/26/all-you-got/
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