to my daughters

Your great grandfather defended a bridge in Italy,

holding the enemy at bay with his machine gun until

all the troops had crossed.  Praised and awarded

honors by Mussolini himself, he returned a humble

quiet  man of peace.

 

 

Your grandfather landed in Normandy at Omaha

beach at 07:30 in the morning, and though all

others in his landing craft were slain, he lived and

fought there and in the Pacific theatre.  He returned

and helped children learn to love language as an

English teacher.

 

 

War passed me by, and perhaps the hero’s blood for

I have not been tested, and my greatest act may be

of kindness.

 

 

But when you need it, know that you can stand

strong with honor for your beliefs and call

upon the blood at need. Temper it with kindness

that someday your children’s children’s children

may say, the blood of heroes runs in my veins.


One Comment on “to my daughters”


Share your thoughts, I'd love to hear what you have to say.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s