For my Grandfather, Australian 9th Light Horse.
He died
when I was just emerging
from the unremembered,
he left
with the sound
of muffled sobs
coming from
his room.
My Grandfather lived
in yellowed photographs
and the torn patches
of fabric souvenired
from a downed
Turkish biplane.
His sword
was too heavy
for a child to lift.
On each Anzac Day
I would open
a battered biscuit tin
to count his medals
and the broken teeth
on an old
set of dentures.
As a child, I worried
that he had gone
to heaven
without his teeth.
Note.
ANZAC refers to Australian and New Zealand
Army Corps, specifically to soldiers serving
1914 - 1918. ANZAC Day is a day of remembrance
for all those who gave their lives in service and for those who served in defense of the Nation in all wars. ANZAC Day
is held on the 25th April in both Australia and New Zealand.
Categories:
biplane, grandfather, remembrance day,
Form: Free verse
The year was sixty-seven, mid July,
a summer's day, and Hucknall was the place,
I sat beneath a cornflower blue sky,
sun hat on head, and ice cream on my face.
Strange mixtures of aromas filled my nose,
like aviation fuel and candy floss,
hot dogs with onion, I had one of those,
got ketchup down my shirt, my Mum was cross.
Not angry for too long, she treated me
to my first trip aloft, a pleasure flight,
a 1930s biplane, the Rapide,
all wood and struts and wires, like a kite.
Mum leaned across and handed me a sweet,
she said to me that sucking it would stop
the pressure change around two thousand feet
from making both my eardrums go pop.
We bumped along the grass, took to the air,
warm currents rose then dropped our little plane,
my face at one point took on colour where
the lime boiled sweet and it were both the same.
We landed, I climbed out, all beaming smiles,
and pleaded with my Mum to go again,
my next flight I would have to wait a while,
but that was when I fell in love with planes.
For contest 'Early childhood memory', sponsor Line Gauthier
22nd April 2018
Categories:
biplane, childhood,
Form: Rhyme