Fanfare For The Heroes Poem by Martin Ward

Fanfare For The Heroes

Not long ago the word hero
was bandied around, but now
it has meaning: something profound.

Let the last become first
and the first become last:
celebrity is in the past.

When the ordinary
become extraordinary,
and the least in the pay packet
pecking order are revered the most:
let them be the stars of this toast.

Now we know the real heroes:
no rich, inflated egos; just someone's
daughter or son who keeps working on,
when we are in lockdown,
they help avoid meltdown.

It begins with health workers,
doctors and nurses, then those
on the checkouts; emptying bins;
and to avoid any doubt:
when others run away;
the ones who race in,
or stay in stoic resolution:
the battle to win.

The park rangers, cleaners,
warehouse workers, those who
keep us fed, the buriers
of the dead, and perfect strangers
whose compassion exceeded
to volunteer to do
whatever is needed.

In cities, villages and towns,
we are hearing the cheering
all around: for those
who build upon ground zero.
Trumpets sound, tin-pans,
clapping, shouting, rapping:
let the nation and world resound
with a fanfare for the heroes.