Wednesday, March 19, 2014

...a picture is worth a thousand words, so I'll let the pictures say it, and only use a few words to guide you along.

Grandpa is sick, can't get outta bed
Work to be done, if family's to be fed

Pa's the eldest son ...there's no other men

Hitch up the plow, he's proud ...and almost ten

Flowers for Grandma, she's been cryin' alot

Besides the kids, Grandpa's all she's really got



That's the way it was, after the war
Sayin', "It's the Depression," & few's got anymore

Grandpa gets outta bed before he's well

No one works harder than him, that I hear tell

Neighbors help each other, hope starts to grow

Don't make it to town much, that life isn't much known


War breaks out, around the radio they all anxiously sit
Pearl Harbor gets bombed, war really becomes legit

Pa joins other men, to fight a dreaded World War Two
Many young girls help too, doing all they can do

As the war ends, there's a renewed sense of hope

Most everyone's growed up alot ...while trying to cope

Some look for the girl they'll marry some day

And perhaps raise a family, in some sort of way

It's like startin' over, a brand new dream

He smiles at her, and also sees her gleam

Pa & Ma marry in a church, and give it a go

If they'll have any children, only God knows

Soon their two little sons, happily sit on a wall

One minute we're smilin', the next in a brawl




Sweet little girl, of another family, yet to be born
Not to be found amongst those fields of sweet corn

Where, oh where, oh where shall she be
Smilin' at her daddy, swingin' from a tree



Or the pride of her mommy, wearing that red bow
Now going out for ice cream, later, who knows

Miles upon miles, upon miles away

College awaits, for me to attend one day



College life and the city is much different, for sure
I'm not used to this, now almost missing the manure

But somewhere down the road, and not fully realized
A relationship needed to be cultivated, not fertilized

Older generation,  it was in a town a few miles down the road

For me, it's across the state, in a whole different abode

Only God knows all the winding roads, and all those curves
And those getting particular attention, out in the burbs

It took some time, and a detour or two, but God's timing is always there
The last of five sons ...to marry God's choice of lovely blue eyes and gold hair

Now, years have passed ...an it's not been all marital bliss
But thank God for the growth of family, and the love that is His ...



There's no one on earth that I'd ever rather be with
Than the one in my arms, and that's certainly no myth.  

(Attempted to write through my Dad's perspective.  He came from a family of six children ...with four girls, and he, the oldest of two boys.  I also came from a family of six, and I am the second of five boys, and have one sister.  My wife and I have five children ...with two daughters, and three sons.  This, of course, was not all mentioned in the poem ...as I am not that good at rhyming that I can also afford to be thorough.)

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