Letters

A Poem by George David Hope

LETTERS

An old lady holds some letters

Written long ago

They are from her father

A man she didn't know

Each one it's seal unbroken

No one knows what they say

Send from a battlefield

While he was away

They say how much he's sorry

But he felt that he must go

To fight alongside his brothers

And that he felt so sad and low

He wrote how he loved her mum

Thought of her every second of the day

He was sorry that he'd let her down

On that December day

She said through tear filled eyes

We've a baby on the way

You're going to be a father

For Gods sake you'll have to stay

He gently wiped away the tears

"Don't worry I'll not fall

There is a higher cause now

To answer my countries call"

That night he tried to make it better

So before he went it would be fine

She told him that if he went

She hoped he'd die upon that line

He stood in the bedroom doorway

Not knowing if she was still awake

With his bag packed he left her lying

Knowing her heart he did break

It was on that July 1st morning

Back in the year of 1916

That the guns finally fell silent

To kill the hun he was so keen

He advanced upon the whistles

Then bravely went over the top

But a combination of wire and bullets

Made him stop, then drop

As he lay there dying

In that god forsaken place

He was found by a medic

Who had an angels face

"Don't worry my dearest darling

I'm coming home to stay"

These his final words

As his life it ebbed away

The old lady removed a telegram

Form the bottom of the set

Her eyes filled with tears as it was opened

And said "It's with great regret"

© 2018 George David Hope

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Featured Review

barleygirl

This is a great epic storytelling poem. Your storyline is what really stands out here. I love the twists & turns & intricacies & inevitabilities of each thing that happens, each thing that's said. It's just like real life. As I've mentioned before, your poem feels like it's on the verge of having strong rhythm & rhyme . . . but every so often, you throw in an extra word or two that throws the rhythm off. Personally, I don't mind a slightly uneven rhythm, but you did ask me about this on a different review. I wonder if you've ever counted syllables? That's how I learned to get my rhythm more even, using the same number of syllables per line. Eventually I learned to FEEL the rhythm & now I don't count syllables anymore. Just thought I'd throw that out there, in case you haven't already tried it! (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie