"A Father's Son"

A Father's Son

By Gordon McClure

A father knows within his heart,
someday his son will leave,
And wishes well for him in life,
for in his eyes he sees, himself
only more success for he.
The moment has arrived for all
the family to see,
That this brave lad has chose
a path, that none would trod with glee,
At 18 years he's still a babe in eyes
that moisten still,
To see a son at 18 years, he's much to
young to leave.
The Corps awaits this lad, with
dreams of far off lands,
Of victories and battles in the
land of make believe.
The training it was long and hard,
and once he thought he'd quit,
but he reached way down and pulled straight up,
he'd show em he had grit!
And now the day it has arrived,
with orders now in hand,
he dreamed again of victories in far off distant lands.
The deck was wet with morning dew,
the morn they saw the shore,
He swallowed fear and tucked his gear,
and waited for the roar.
The thumping of of the rotors,
the booming of the can,
and then the gray-green fingers
snake across the span.
And then the trumpet sounds the charge
for all the comp to hear,
The rifles shout and knots of fear grips from
him within; what's that he sees oft to his left?
as he turn a weary eye,
Surely Fred, and Willy layin there are slackin,
oh, they'll catch the Sergeant's rye!
But the boy's are down upon the ground,
No older will they grow,
But the father's son is now a man, and there
are no weeds in row,
For in a min the sin of war has aged him in a sec,
And the bal of life has now been passed,
to the father's son it goes.
He thinks of this and other things,
as on his way he goes,
Off boys and men and sounds of pain,
and gently falling rain.
And now the doorway is in sight, his father's eyes he sees,
Are moistened still but this time not for glee.
Two men hug in silence, for all the fam to see,
a boy was gone but is no more he's 20 barely.
The dreams of battles fought, and victories won,
are over now you see,
For face to face with the scythe he escaped eternity,
but Fred and Willy stayed behind for all the earth to see.
It's not so much the sights and sounds that makes a boy a man,
But thoughts of boys to men who served and never could have ran.

Sempers,

Roger