Testaments of Youth

Paragon Station as it may have appeared in 1914

Testaments of Youth

Listening to you, whistling at the sink, hands swishing

tea towel tucked in your belt, sleeves rolled to the elbow

setting sun gleaming on hair that whitened overnight

for you, a peaceful man, cannot share.

 

You tell me, you kissed goodbye to your bride-

The Only girl in the world for you- she smiling

waving, steam shrouded- on packed Paragon

station, egg sandwich squashed in your pocket.

 

I cried reading Vera Brittain’s story. Her loss

of Roland, Edward, Robert and Victor, and Oh!

What a Lovely War! was not for you

nor words like grief and sadness. Yet you, my sunny

Granddad taught me the French for bread

was pain.

Published on-line by Algebra of Owls on March 2017

 I was delighted that this poem was published. I had several stabs at trying to capture this aspect of my Granddad. I was an adult before I understood what he must have witnessed. He only spoke to me about missing my Grandma.  The humour of Oh! What a Lovely War escaped him. He was part of a generation who didn’t speak about their feelings. I like to think he wanted to protect us from the horror he witnessed.