Hello

This poem was inspired by a true gentleman hero, whom I was very privileged to know as my father-in-law. He passed away at the age of ninety-two in March 2012. Despite having seen the atrocities of war, he had a fondness for the good in all people and would never condemn people for their actions. He worked hard for most of his life, was active and always had a smile. Many people will feel the loss of this kind gentleman.

Royal pass

What makes a man a hero? I've often thought this through. It's someone who is macho? It's someone who is true? No, that is not a hero. He's just a simple man. Always there when things go wrong and who does the best he can. He lends a strong shoulder To ease the flow of tears He holds high the lantern To drive away your fears. His smile was just enough To give encouragement. His frown more than adequate To make one soon relent. When some had need of guidance His ears he'd freely lend Advice came in abundance You chose, not him could you offend. He had no need of medals Or glory this is true. That's why, dear Grandpa Our hero has to be you. Source: https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/a-true-hero-grandpa

To me, you are an angel in disguise. Full of intuition, you are intelligent and wise. Always giving and helping through good times and bad. You are the best friend I've ever had. If I had one wish, it would surely be To give you as much as you've given to me. Though I've put our relationship through some cloudy days, You've been my sunshine in so many ways. Through trials and tests, right by me you stood, And you gave me your hand whenever you could. Thank you so much, my sister, my friend. My gratitude for you has no end. Source: https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/my-sister-and-my-friend

There's a little boy standing by the fence with a flag in his hand. He's sad and confused; he doesn't understand. He watches his daddy turn and head up on the bus. He watches him go and doesn't even fuss. "Why does it have to be my daddy?" he thinks to himself. Then he thinks back to the pictures on the shelf Of his dad dressed in a suit with a white cap, But he doesn't know why daddy's going to Iraq. He sees his daddy wave at him from the bus's window. His heart is aching with every sinew. "Daddy, come back!" he wants to yell, Because even on the home-front, war is hell. He stands at the front of class talking loud About how his daddy is making the nation proud. He still plays on the playground with all the other kids. Some stop and ask where his daddy is. He says he misses him and wants him back From the clutches of Iraq. He stands by the mess hall with a SATCOM phone, Making a call to his family back at home. His wife picks up and tells him her love and asks how he's been, And then he hears a little voice chime in. "Daddy, when are you coming home?" There was a pause on the phone. A mortar came in and landed near the Mess. He knew he had to cover up the phone his best. "Daddy, what was that sound?" He couldn't tell him there were bombs landing around. He said, "I love you," and played it off well, Because when you're in it, war is he'll. He stands with his buddies talking loud About his little son and how he makes him proud. He still patrols around the war zone with all the other men. Some stop and ask how the family's been. He says he misses them and wants to get back From the clutches of Iraq. There's a little boy standing in a crowd with a flag in his hand. His daddy's coming back from a foreign land. The sound of horns blaze through the air As the crowd erupts into fanfare. He saw a line of soldiers get out. He saw him and ran with a loud shout And ran into his arms. He was safe from all harms. He got his daddy back From the clutches of Iraq. Source: https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/clutches