As a small boy
That steam locomotive
Long, black and
Right in my face
As a small boy
That red diesel locomotive
Moving from idle humming to a roar
Louder, louder than any lion
As a larger boy
The view outside
Ever chancing
Yet the same
As a larger boy
The view inside
Someone to
Fantasize about
As an older boy
Realizing that
Grandparents
Don’t live forever
As an older boy
Experiencing that
Ist dieser Sitz frei?
Can get off to a good start
As a young draftee
Reading names
Inscribed on a brass plaque
In a silent corner of the station
As a young working man
That horseshoe curve in the mountain
Must have been hard work
Harder than my imagination
Today the train was due
And overdue
When I asked: Is this taken
Not a seat was free
And this old man
Wrote this poem
Still fascinated
And feeling older
I'd like to spend some time with you,
my dark and smooth draftee.
At dusk, when all my work is through,
I know you'll wait for me.
You're full of body, fair on top,
a bubble-head they say.
Your scent of roasted malt and hop
a working-man's bouquet.
Although there's fire in your veins,
Your touch is always cool.
I hope this doggerel explains
why, Stout, I am your fool.
Just weeks after Dad died, I found my way here
Hoping unsettled emotions would disappear
Hope and warmth came from poets I’d never met
Artists helped me as pain I tried to forget
Their comments so kind and suggestions welcome
In a few months time I’d made many a chum
Experienced writers introduced new forms
Honing skills, I saw my verses transform
How glad I am to have found Poetry Soup
I went from being alone to part of a troop
What keeps me here now is the contacts I made
Poets whose inspiration will never fade
Even those who have left with the passing years
Still stay in touch as they embark on new frontiers
There is no greater gift than friendship to me
Happy I am to be a Soupdom draftee
*Written January 11, 2012 for Carol Browns “What I Like Most about Poetry Soup” contest
By Carolyn Devonshire
Life is so uncertain, of that I‘m sure you will agree,
So I’d like to take time, to send a Thank You up to thee;
Thank You for my Friends, that are always there for me,
Thank You for the crazies, that are in my family tree,
Thank You for my husband, who came on bended knee,
Thank You for the perfect life, that you helped me to see,
Thank You for giving me my mind, so able and artsy,
Thank You for my health, with it I am free,
Thank You for my awesome job - Surveyor and Draftee,
Thank You for this blissful house I come home to happily;
Thank You for just being there, your hope fills me with glee,
Thank You for the person that you have let me be,
I’m thankful for all the numerous things, that you have given me,
But mostly for the love, life’s master key…
They got them in service to their country
mementoes of it’s wars,
some for valor above and beyond
others for sweeping floors.
They all turned out in uniform
fulfilling the oath they took,
to protect and defend this country
we were proud of how they looked.
No matter draftee or volunteer
most were loyal and true,
earning the chevrons on their sleeves
protecting me and you.
All gave of themselves in some measure
a few were called to glory,
just a handful were broken in shame
but they too are part of the story.
Not all scars are where we can see
there are some that lurk inside,
coloring lives for years to come
with secrets they attempt to hide.
Some wounds of war will never heal
always having you by the throat,
affecting everything you do
how you think and feel and vote.
No, maimed and bleeding is not the worst
that can happen to people in war,
there are things more terrible
that haunt them forever more.
So stand up straight to wave and salute
when you see an American Vet,
their lives were on the line for yours and mine
these heroes deserve our respect.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.