THE HARBOUR CLOCK CARPARK

I remember when I were a kid aged about 10 ,

Forty eight years ago probably going back this day ,

A day much like it is today a worm August day ,

I strolled in to town , making my way to the harbour ,

Ramsgate harbour , rather picturesque I have to say ,

Yachts, boats , a fairey boat that went to France ,

Calais and Boulogne , the Queen Of The Chanel sailed ,

Then it took cars , crane lifted them on and off ,

The harbour , it self were built by French prisoners of war ,

Napoleons finest troops ,

Savvied two hurricanes two world wars , a tribute to the French builders ,

Now anything British P O W's had been let loose upon ,

Well just a slight wind would seen it cast in to the ruble of history ,

I degrees from my story ,

As I walk past the harbour clock house carpark ,

I noticed some men , most in wheelchair made of wicker ,

Some had a leg or arm missing some at least one had none at all ,

There were one man , in wicker basket bath chair ,

He could not move , just his head , I could see him talking to his mates ,

I could not see those suppost to be looking after them ,

At a guess , I'd say they were in a pub ,

The lads talked amongst them self's ,

I learnt later the men were wounded in The War

Ken D Williams

The Dyslexic Poet







Poetry by ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2011-08-22 at 14:06

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Another outstanding piece, my friend.
The remnants of war are always among us, whether the veterans whose bodies display their trials or today's younger souls who return physically injured or psychologically scarred.
And as long as the sad parts of human nature prevail, so war will ever remain.
Again, you take us on a haunting journey. You encourage us to step outside our own lives and remember true greatness. And I am grateful to you for this.
Applause!
2011-08-22


countryfog
I can understand why this memory has stayed with you, as it will now with me. I happened to be at the cemetery years ago when there was an interment of a WWII veteran, and a number of other veterans had come to pay their respects. Several were missing limbs, others injured perhaps in ways less visible but no less lasting. These were men that we in America have come to call "the greatest generation" for their sacrifices during the war and their accomplishments after. Fewer and fewer are left now and when they have all gone we will have lost something priceless and precious in their passing. May we never forget.
2011-08-22