OUR NEIGHBOR’S LADS RETURN

OUR NEIGHBOR’S LAD’S RETURN




Today I’ve made no resolution
The New Year page is clean and white.
But thoughts come stealing through my memory
Of just one year ago tonight.

For they were here, our neighbors laddies,
on furloughs, home careless and gay.
It seems unreal that now they’re fighting
On foreign fronts so far away.

So tall and straight they moved among us,
Those gallant lads in uniform.
We loved them, and we prayed dear Jesus,
Please won’t you keep them safe from harm.

Yet, we must pay a price for victory,
For rights to live as free men live.
War takes it’s toll in blood and heart aches.
So some their precious lives must give.

Will it be them? We vaguely wonder,
Our throats contract, the tear drops start,
A costly, costly price for victory.
Those shy sweet lads, dear to our hearts.

“Just the same.” they said at parting,
“Don’t change a thing, don’t move away.
We’ll want the same sweet homey neighbors.
For we’ II be coming back some day.

Again we’ll gather in the evening,
Just as we did those years ago.
You’ll pass around a plate of cookies,
And we’ll take three or four, you know.

The war will seem so far behind us,
We’ll talk of dear familiar things
Of happy days that are before us
In a land where peace and freedom reigns.

Now, with the clean, white page before me,
One resolution I must write.
To work and pray for peace and victory,
To keep the home fires burning bright.

They’ll want it all just like they left it,
Familiar scenes, for which they’ve fought
And let us be forever grateful
For the freedom that they bought.

This is yet another poem written by my Grandma Tucker during World War II. It was published in her local newspaper.

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