Poems for GI trace
You have waited for a place in life to stand
For the boy who exists within the man
To give him the roots and help them grow
In a space which he could call his own.
But the boy waited patiently for the day
To ask the stranger "Why didn’t you stay"
To unravel the mystery of his youth
Which started a quest for the honest truth.
So time was spent emotional back tracking
To give him the identity which was sadly lacking
And by amazing luck he found success
And flew the first plane to put his ghosts to rest.
So now the boy can be the man
You hold the place in life to stand
And one thing that should make you glad
Is that now you can call the stranger ‘Dad’
Written For My Very Good Friend
18 May 2001
© Lynne Cordell
For My Father
I have never gazed upon your face, Father
Nor known the touch of your strong guiding hand
I have never seen you smile, never seen you weep
I have never seen your face; nor you..mine
I have never seen the sunlight reflected in your eyes
Nor the shadows which fell at close of day
I have never known the peace which you fought for gallantly
I have never seen your face - nor you, mine
I have never trod the earth of your birth land
Nor followed in the furrows that you ploughed
No matter - for our ties of blood flow freely
Across continents and far off distant lands
I have never heard you sing me a lullaby
Nor a soulful, mournful dirge of the blues
I never held your hand in mine
Heard your voice, your final sigh
I never even got to say...goodbye
But most of all, Father, I have never seen your face
I have never, ever gazed upon your face
( in memory of Paris Mack 1919 - 1994)
My Handsome GI Daddy
I never met my Daddy
He died when I was small
He never got to hold me
Or even see me crawl
But soon I’m going to meet him
As he lies there in his grave
My handsome GI Daddy
I know you were so brave
I treasure the one photograph
In your uniform-you look so smart
I hold it very frequently
Close-by near my heart
Someday I hope that I will TRACE
My New York ancestry
And then my family jigsaw
Will completely be
Dear Daddy I know you’re watching
To guide me on my way
Please give a sign or just a clue
To really make my day
I’ll stand beside your graveside
And send you lots of LOVE
Please keep on watching over me
From the Heavens above.
dedicated to “MY HANDSOME GI DADDY”- Sgt. Louis Beldon Lee 1914-1949
Written by Elaine Lee Drury-July 2004
Do We Really Speak The Same Language?
What they know as jelly, we know as jam
While we eat gammon, they’re eating ham
What we know as cockles, they know as clams
Their mothers push strollers, our babes are in prams!!
They pay property taxes, we pay rates
They drive SUVs, we drive Estates
To them we are friends, to us they are mates
They go to Fairs, while we go to Fetes.
They visit the bathroom, we go to the loo
They stand in a line, we wait in a queue
We call it a carpet, they call it a rug
We call 'em insects, to them they're just bugs
Our heads wear caps, whilst they just have hats
They live in apartments, but we live in flats
We drive old bangers, while they drive old cars
We drink in pubs, while they drink in bars
What we call a twit, they call a goof
While they use hassocks, ours is a pouffe
What they call a girl, we call a lass.
Our cars use petrol, while theirs run on gas
To them she's a Mom, but to us she's a "MUM"
While they have a rear, we have a bum!
They have TVs, while we have tellys
They wear boots and we put on wellies
And finally guys, or should I say lads
Their gallant old GIs, we claim as DADS!!!
WW II Babies, Twas Not Their Intention
by: Loraine Russell Burton
Hush now my little ones
Please don't despair
Hush now my sad ones
Because their daddies are not there.
Never give up the hope
And always try to share
Your hopes and your searches
With those that really care.
Twas not your daddies intention
To leave you all alone
He would have, if he'd known you
His love to you have shown.
Twas not your mother's intention
To lie to you, and lead you wrong
She trusted in the hope
That you'd learn to be strong.
Copyright ©2008 Loraine Russell Burton
From The Heart
by Janette Taylor
I've longed to know my father
the heartaches never end
I've missed his love and comfort
my broken heart he'd mend!
Part of me is missing
part of me is lost
my dad completes the real me
I've found out to my cost.
To have his arms around me
when life is oh so cruel
to know his re-assurance
is worth more than any jewel.
I've never been daddies darling
picked up spun around
and told I love you baby
this love I've never found.
The lucky little children
who have this every day
will never know the heartache
they will never have to say,
Part of me is missing
I'm feeling imcomplete
Oh Lord look after daddy
until the day we meet.
Remembered every morning,
That she has gone away.
I did not have the privilege,
To be there on that day.
Our paths in life had parted,
Back in a different time.
The hope we'd be united,
A constant dream of mine.
Every day there is a void,
Where Mother used to be.
For she has gone to God,
But left her memory with me.
I know life's just a journey,
We all must travel through.
But Lord, I miss the Mother,
That I never even knew..…
For My Mother
Not only have I been unable to trace my G.I. dad but my mother put me up
for adoption and even after I had traced her to L.A in 1985 she refused
to see me or tell me who my father was until shortly before she died.
Even now all I have is a name, George Deters, Pittsburgh PA. The
spelling of deters is questionable as it was a telephone call and when i
asked how it was spelt all i got was "the normal way". I will most
likely find his name on St Peter's roll at the pearly gates....
D J Butler Bristol UK