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Please just one more Saturday Fishing
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Please just one more Saturday Fishing Just One More Saturday He always came to me When he had a booboo I would clean the abrasion Detol, he was always brave His little face scrunched in pain But never a sound escaped his lips I would cover his booboo With a snoopy bandaid his favourite Every Saturday without fail We went fishing together, I taught him to bait his first hook.... I laughed so hard tears running down my face The worm kept slipping off his hook His concentration so poignant Reminding me of his father when on this same jetty On this same lake I taught him to catch his first fish, it was almost as small as a sardine he was so proud you would have thought he had caught the grand daddy of all barramundi I was there the night when he brought his first steady girlfriend home to meet his grandma and I He was so shy, yet proud , so protective of her Just like he was with his sisters.. I was there when the night He came to me after Supper We spoke we had our first Angry words that night I tried to stop him, But as his father before him He was quiet but stubborn But pop, you must see It is the right thing to do, Please pop please Give me your blessing He came over to me Bent down, and took my hands in his And repeated Pop it is the right thing to do You know that So I went to the bus top with him, Held him tight in my arms And unashamedly I kissed him Let the tears fall unheeded Down my face I stood there till the bus had been out of sight For a long time; still waving I was there when he graduated, Despite my misgivings I was so proud of him Here he stood tall and proud, Hugging his grandma and I Who was this tall young man? He had come to the academy A young boy barely shaving, Now a confident you man Stood before me All the proud young men All with the pride our nation Resting on their young Enthusiastic shoulders I was there when he boarded The massive troop carrier plane To fly away to that far off land I was there when the car pulled up Next to the front kerb Outside our home I was there when two young men Sat my wife and I down Explaining how brave he had been And how he had been loved by all, How proud our nation was Of his sacrifice I was there when they gave me the flag Of a grateful nation I was there when they fired off a volley Of rifle shots in his honour I was there when many of his comrade In arms came and told my wife and I What a fine young man he had been And how they had be honoured To call him friend... But I was not there When he was lowered into the cold earth I had been there when a grateful nation Buried his father my I was there when the lights Went out of his wife�s eyes Slowly retreating from the world I am here now teaching His and My grandchildren how To put the worm on the hook I wish I could have gone fishing With both my boys �Just one more time�. As I sit here now quietly Fishing with my grandchildren I offer up a fervent prayer I hope to hell a grateful bloody nation Does not bury my great grandson  |
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5/19/2010 5:50 pm |
Thank you. Just a citizen, that has the many privileges and liberties that have been paid for. God Bless you.
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5/20/2010 5:38 pm |
loved it loreli..
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5/28/2010 1:47 pm |
something we must all remember with momorial day approching..thanks for the well chosen words..
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