Margaret Mayo : Music

The music of my time
heard in far off lands,
echoes in memories with
another sound more sweet to hear.
A chopper coming from afar,
to risk life and limb,
must have been more dear
to who waited far below.

Songs we danced to and heard,
not understanding, that far away,
young boys died, while hearing that refrain,
mixed with the sweeter one.

Your chopper brought back from,
the edge of hell, one who was,
always dearer and is dearer still,
for you brought home the survivors.

And you are one as well.

You survive to tell us,
of the hell we did not see.
You lost the child in you,
to save the child in me.

©Margaret Mayo
October 21, 2003

Dear Tony

I have spent the day reading all of your poems and reading many aloud to my son, (he is 25 and has epilepsy, as I do and did not go into military), we wept. Your words are what my brother never spoke of. Thank you for them. This poem I wrote for you.

With love and respect,
Maggie

Page created: Saturday, 25 October 2003