Brave

A tribute to my grandfather..

Brave

Old gnarled hands
Lifetime etched between two palms
Hands that served a nation
Praising life, not singing psalms
Two hands that fought a war
That fought in peace when death was calm.

Never forgetting your working class roots
Never afraid of dirty hands
Or the perspiration that came with graft
or the wars you fought in foreign lands.
Never denying you came
From an era when men were the powerful ocean
And women were the shifting sands.

Toil upon soil, your hands spoiled
Hops in Kent, corpses in the fields of France
Never failing, never curtailing
Life a canvas, sometimes bloody, you took your chance.
You never knew what was coming,
But you knew that death comes in advance.

Old gnarled hands
Lifetime etched between two palms
Hands that served a nation
Praising life, not singing psalms.

©2019 Sarah Drury

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