Ain't That a Shame?
Hopefully, They will Say...
Does It Matter?
My Little Dog named-Art
A Bowl of Cheers?
Dreams of Yesterday
Do You Remember?
When is it all going to end?
Just Let It Be
La Vie en Rose
Heads in the Sand?
If I've Learned Anything!
The Path We Choose
A Soldier's Integrity
What is that Sound?
Back in the 50's Tonight!
A Red Rose
Golden as Gold can Be!
Robin Fly Away
The Demise of the Old Cowboy
What Will I Miss?
More Poetry >>
Turning the Pages of My Life
O’ that was when
I was so very small,
just before my mother
and darling twin sister
received their heavenly call.
An orphan I became, but
they never managed to
change my name.
Time slowly passed, but one
sunny day I left this haunted
place in the dust of my past.
Now a teenager I’d become
when the winds of war
blew my way.
Across the ocean blue,
I sailed to a strange
and different land,
four years I had to stay.
A beautiful green eyed, raven haired
girl I met. Love at first sight was
ours to be hold and never would
we ever let go.
First a little boy named Johnnie Ray.
Five years later, a little sister came.
Her name was Monique Fay.
Time did quickly pass and again
the winds of war did blow and
again, I had to go.
I witnessed blood, death and tears,
enough to last the rest of my years.
After seventeen years, with injuries
and nightmarish memories, my military
days came to a sudden end without
fanfare or cheers.
My wife and family now lived the American dream,
middle class Americans, a lot of work, a little play,
school for the kids each day as time ticked silently
Son and daughter, both married.
Grandchild, just one little boy to spoil.
Life’s clock is now ticking twice as fast,
birthdays, Thanksgiving, Christmas tree,
and a new year that will not long last.
The sand in the hourglass has sifted close to the end.
Looking back, regrets, I have few. In most cases I’ve
done it my way. I still have a darling wife and a wonderful
family. Friends so many, I can not count. I’ve lived the
average American life. What more could a little curly,
blond haired orphan and an OLD poet ask?
Jackie R. Kays
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