Best Warfather Poems
With warmest regards and the saddest lament
I write this small note with the best of intent
The newspaper’s account of your husband’s death
Made me feel as if I was short of breath
As the son of a Veteran who twice went to war
I’ve often wondered, what my life would have had in store
If my father had not returned home one day
And I had to share my grief on public display
I was not born the first time he went away
And was just ten when he left again, somehow feeling betrayed
I didn’t quite understand why he had to leave
It took a while to learn not to grieve
I read that you have two little boys, just six and eight
I can’t imagine what you say to make their restless dreams abate
My mind used to play out my greatest fear
Misplacing his last tape recording, saying his coming home date was near
On return tapes to him, I played guitar and talked too
Trying to make him feel like he was home, even if untrue
I write this note to help me remember
That even though my father returned in December
Many that go off to war, do not
And sons, daughters, spouses and families are caught
In a process of grieving that abates only with time
It takes as long as it does, there is no magical chime
To help you and your sons with your journey that I feared most
Enclosed is a contribution to their foundation host
Not at all a fair trade, just to help provide for their well being
I know you remind them that their father’s love is all seeing
Young Billy was a soldier in the War Between the States;
And scars of war made Billy feel a victim of the fates.
He fought for Mr. Lincoln and the preservation creed
Yet saw too many dying and he saw too many bleed.
Now Billy knew the dreams of war so vivid every night,
Were dreams of almost everyone who'd caught that bloody fight.
The war he fought sought righteousness which he believed was true
But never understood how North and South could split in two.
His parents died of fever while he fought in Tennessee,
A fact he didn't know until the North claimed victory.
His papa, wise and sullen like the Irish Sea he knew,
Had come to this America with dreams to start anew.
Young Billy hoped his mama knew he'd made it through the war
For she had shed no salted tears when he marched off before -
But mothers bury very deep such pain within their soul
So only God could touch her there and try to make her whole.
Now both were gone along with wisdoms they could gently share
To help him lift conflicted pain no man should have to bear.
He prayed that Father Dave back home in Dublin had been right -
A man can speak with loved ones in the starlight of the night.
The things of life one covets can be lost to history,
Including soldiers buried by the war's ferocity.
He cried out loud in anger at the God he once adored:
"Why did You leave me all alone my precious, precious Lord?
What grave offense did I commence before Your loving eyes?"
Though God was silent in repose great clouds then cleared the skies
And Billy's father softly spoke and made the two as one
With words of wisdom's calming balm to heal his broken son.
"The wisdom of this world are pearls wrapped snug in crystal rain
Proclaiming life will never end but just begin again."