© Lynne
Cordell
FOR MY
FATHER
I
have never gazed upon your face, Father
Nor
known the touch of your strong guiding hand
I have
never seen you smile, never seen you weep
I have
never seen your face; nor you..mine
I have
never seen the sunlight reflected in your
eyes
Nor the
shadows which fell at close of day
I have
never known the peace which you fought for
gallantly
I have
never seen your face - nor you, mine
I have
never trod the earth of your birth land
Nor
followed in the furrows that you ploughed
No
matter - for our ties of blood flow freely
Across
continents and far off distant lands
I have
never heard you sing me a lullaby
Nor a
soulful, mournful dirge of the blues
I never
held your hand in mine
Heard
your voice, your final sigh
I never
even got to say..goodbye
But most
of all, Father, I have never seen your face
I have
never, ever gazed upon your face
Monica
Roberts
( in
memory of Paris Mack 1919 - 1994)
MY
HANDSOME GI DADDY
I
never met my Daddy
He
died when I was small
He
never got to hold me
Or
even see me crawl
But
soon I’m going to meet him
As
he lies there in his grave
My
handsome GI Daddy
I
know you were so brave
I
treasure the one photograph
In
your uniform-you look so smart
I
hold it very frequently
Close-by
near my heart
Someday
I hope that I will TRACE
My
New York ancestry
And
then my family jigsaw
Will
completely be
Dear
Daddy I know you’re watching
To
guide me on my way
Please
give a sign or just a clue
To
really make my day
I’ll
stand beside your graveside
And
send you lots of LOVE
Please
keep on watching over me
From
the Heavens above.
dedicated
to “MY HANDSOME GI DADDY”- Sgt.
Louis Beldon Lee 1914-1949
Written
by Elaine Lee Drury-July 2004
Do We Really
Speak The Same Language?
What they
know as jelly, we know as jam
While we eat gammon, they’re eating ham
What we know as cockles, they know as clams
Their
mothers push strollers, our babes are in
prams!!
They
pay property taxes, we pay rates
They
drive SUVs, we drive Estates
To
them we are friends, to us they are mates
They
go to Fairs, while we go to Fetes.
They
visit the bathroom, we go to the loo
They
stand in a line, we wait in a queue
We
call it a carpet, they call it a rug
We
call 'em insects, to them they're just bugs
Our
heads wear caps, whilst they just have
hats
They
live in apartments, but we live in
flats
We
drive old bangers, while they drive old cars
We
drink in pubs, while they drink in bars
What
we call a twit, they call a goof
While
they use hassocks, ours is a pouffe
What
they call a girl, we call a lass.
Our
cars use petrol, while theirs run on gas
To
them she's a Mom, but to us she's a
"MUM"
While
they have a rear, we have a bum!
They
have TVs, while we have tellys
They
wear boots and we put on wellies
And
finally guys, or should I say lads
Their
gallant old GIs, we claim as DADS!!!
WW
II Babies,
Twas
Not Their Intention
by:
Loraine Russell Burton
Hush
now my little ones
Please
don't despair
Hush
now my sad ones
Because
their daddies are not there.
Never
give up the hope
And
always try to share
Your
hopes and your searches
With
those that really care.
Twas
not your daddies intention
To
leave you all alone
He
would have, if he'd known you
His
love to you have shown.
Twas
not your mother's intention
To
lie to you, and lead you wrong
She
trusted in the hope
That
you'd learn to be strong.
Copyright
©2008 Loraine Russell Burton