The Wall

The night was cold, I was ten years old,

When the Chaplain made his call.

The news was bad, my mother was sad,

When she heard of my fathers fall.

An ambush he said, they all were dead,

The words were shocking and cold.

Eight other men died, eight other wives cried,

For young men who would never grow old.

The years quickly passed, they seemed so fast,

With no father to show me the way.

Yet I knew from the start, deep down in my heart,

We'd be together, forever, one day.

Through the laughter and tears, the months and the years,

I kept hearing "It's far-away call",

The day was cold I was thirty years old,

When my eyes first set sight on the wall.

It seemed ancient yet new, as if somehow on cue,

When I saw it the earth became still.

And my memory once grey, became focused that day,

On a man who now suddenly seemed real

No more tears filled my eyes, no more lifetime of "WHYS".

All the answers l'd found in the place,

With the touch of his name, gone was sorrow and pain,

And bad memories were quickly erased.

As I stared into the black, my father stared back.

And he smiled and my heart filled with joy,

I said, "Welcome home, Dad, What a journey you've had",

He said, "It's sure great to be home, My Boy."