The Good Man Poem by Edmund V. Strolis
The Good Man
How did I know then what bravery was?
It did not ride on horseback.
It did not charge a hilltop.
It did not pose with medals dangling.
No it was so much more.
No limelight, no marquee, no front page,
no red carpet.
No confetti filled sky in open limousine.
No, it was sacrifice in silence, humble toil.
Rain soaked and unheralded,
Icy blasts and scorching sun, thankless miles.
Abused by a few but loved by all others.
Never wavering for a moment, steadfast in resolve.
asking only for a small patch of something, anything.
Perhaps....
A taste of something sweet, a kiss goodnight,
a book to read, a Sunday drive.
Far too few, far too little were his rewards.
Yet he never asked anything of those that wished,
they had given so much more.
Only to love one another
Indeed its a great heartfelt memorial for a well loved Stepfather! Nonetheless, there is hope to meet again in eternity. Thanks for sharing this lovely poem, Edmund!
This is steadfast in resolve and wonderful in memorial sharing. Very wise and nice drafting shared that transfers wise message really....10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/28/2024 9:51:29 PM # 1.0.0.1119
This poem is solid in its truth, Edmund. And seeing the dedication, I'm reminded of my dad who had some glaring faults but rose from a desperate background which included a father who was a poor provider and philanderer. If you don't already know it, I think you'll appreciate the poem, Those Winter Sundays, by Robert Haden. You'll have to go outside PH to find it because of copyright issues, but it's not hard to find. -Glen