Grandpa got all dressed up:
White gloves, uniform firmly pressed,
He shouldered up his rifle,
And went to join the rest.
A Parade was taking place that day,
We all rushed just to see
The bands marching in quiet steps,
Among the graves at the cemetery.
My Grandpa’s troop led the parade.
The flags were flying high.
‘Old soldiers’ marched in measured steps.
They made there way with pride.
The mayor gave a little speech, and then the
His gratitude to all the soldiers who had given
all ~ for us.
Someone read Flanders’s field, The Gettysburg
Suddenly: Ready, Aim, Fire ~~ shots shattered
Grandpa stood at attention, his rifle by his
A distant trumpeter played “Taps”; through misty
The graves were adored with flags and beautiful
And people milled in quiet groups, in the early
I looked for my Grandpa, and much to my dismay,
He was kneeling beside a grave, and had bowed
his head to pray.
As I got closer to him, I saw the teardrops
“Grandpa? What’s wrong?” He said, “I’ve outlived
“This is my brother William, he died at
And that’s my best friend, Steven; he was lost
I have friends buried in places I will never see
It’s so hard to lose your buddies; it seems that
wars will never end.
Many lives were given so we can parade today,
My boy, be proud of that flag, and always stop
And should a tear glisten through the prayers
that you speak,
Be proud of them too, for brave men do have
tears upon their cheeks.”
I have very often thought about the talk we had
And I am proud to wear the uniform of my tour in
Today, I’ll shoulder the rifle: Ready, Aim,
Fire, in the volley
Of the men and women who have died to keep my
I will recall the words my Grandpa said to me
The day I watched my Grandpa get down on his
knee to pray.
My grandpa taught me many things ~~~ of that
there is no fear,
And today, when I kneel at grandpa’s grave, I
too, will shed a tear.
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