Poetry

The Knock on the Door

By 20th November 2012December 9th, 2019No Comments

The knock on the door, that look on the face
The families find out the time and the place…
They’ll always remember, they’ll never forget
their loved one’s returning, but not how they left.

To pass on the message to others who knew
to families and friends, the list how it grew.
The tears and the heartache, the questions and more,
the knowing they’ll never walk back through the door.

The stillness of time as the bad news is spread
on TV, in papers that never get read.
The grief shared with people that they do not know,
the cameras, the watching, wherever they go.

And then there’s the homecoming, public and sad
as the plane touches down, the memories they had.
A time to be quiet, a moment to grieve
then cars, roses, cameras, and their loved one leaves.

And then there’s the long wait to say real goodbyes,
to snatch precious minutes, in private, to cry.

And then there’s a date and the planning can start,
the music, the words, stay for ever in hearts.

A funeral procession, a town rallies round
in silence, respectful, there’s not any sound,
as the car with their loved one drives slowly on by.

They knew it could happen, they knew they could die.

And then there’s the church overflowing outside.
a moment of comfort, a moment of pride
that the life that was taken, so violently done
has shaken a nation, so many have come,
to bow down their heads and give thanks and to pray
to remember for freedom, the price we must pay.

And then for these families the time is now here,
that chapter is over their loved one so dear
is finally sleeping and resting in peace
it’s time to move on, but remember with ease,
the laughter, the joy and the good times they shared
the knowing how much they were loved,
how they cared for family, for country, the reason they lived
the ultimate sacrifice – life was their gift.

And then, comes the silence, the cameras, the noise
they cease to display our girls and our boys
but once every year on a day in November
in public and private, a time to remember.

The nation again shows it’s thanks and it’s sorrow
for us, those who died and gave up their tomorrow.

Goodnight and sleep peacefully, quietly rest
dear beloved you’ve earned it, you’re simply the best…

Kim O Connor

Author Kim O Connor

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