Childhood Memories-Fathers Poem by Mary Mc Creath

The fathers have all been taken,
To fight for a country at war,
The mothers and children forsaken,
Till it is all over.

Each father returning is welcomed,
By all in the street where he lived,
With flags fluttering, waving and dancing,
And banners of welcome to boot.

A lone figure is spotted by children,
Entering the end of the street,
And all of us run to meet him,
To escort him, his family to greet.

Windows in street are flung open,
And faces appear waving flags,
Jim Brady returns as a hero,
With his haversack strapped to his back.

From the mouths of the close people exit,
To welcome a street's hero son.
They raise him on shoulders high,
To meet his family who only can cry.

Welcome, welcome, were glad you are back.
A table appears and is laid.
A meal is set out for a feast.
We gather all, from important to least.

That night in a tenement tall,
One family is whole again,
And the many who still wait and pray,
Have new hope from events of that day.