My father, six months in the womb
Hears the sound of guns
Senses shade of tomb
Tommies fighting Huns
Far away
Then one day a sudden shock
Uncle John has died
Margaret cries
Carries on to term
My father, sixteen months a babe
Feels the force of sorrow
Come again
Uncle Owen Middle East
Killed by sniper shot
Margaret cries
Carries on – life’s lot
My father, now 18
Working down the pit
Walks to Wigan
Signs on army forms
Margaret wouldn’t speak to him
Hurt unto the core
Two brothers dead
Now her son wants more
On his day of leaving home
Up Tyldesley as he stood
His sister Maggie
Brought a pack of cigs
A mother’s message
Take care son
Careful as you go
Be good be good
Come home safe to me
After six years service
Another six years war
Margaret sees the old world here again
Years of worry she will have
Africa Normandy
She carries on no one sees her pain
Now her grandson an old man
Sitting at this desk
Wants to put on record what they knew
How they lived what the cost
How his grandma loved and lost
In those days
World War One and Two
Brian Fahy
22 May 2021
Erris Poetry 