Poetry

Love at 75

Love at 75

Old Robert Hawthorne felt the pain
Of ammunition’s great disdain
For human flesh and all that’s sane
When he was young, and thin.
A Pacific isle in ’44
Marines had bravely stormed ashore
Rob was part of the 2nd World War
scared right out of his skin.
A hill was charged, and charged again
nine more times these stalwart men,
surely this was Satan’s den
…but any price to win.
Friends of his lay all around
two-thousand others on the ground
and Robert also took a round
that tore him limb from limb.
Yet harder still, he said with tears,
his precious wife of fifty years
succumbed to cancer-worst of fears
Why couldn’t it be him?


contributed by Dwight Jenkins [This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.]