The Old Man Down The Road Poem by Owen Cullimore

Just a short distance from my home
Only a mile or so away
Lives an old man and his dog
Just some old stray
He found wondering around whilst out on his walk
Took him home for a good feed
Gave him someone to whom he could talk
Growing old can be lonely
For a man of ninety-three
A former old war hero
With his pension and gammy knee
But he and Butch his dog
Could be seen around and about
Even though he had trouble walking
Through old age and a bit of gout
His life to him was fulfilled
With an odd beer or two
With Butch his new best friend
They could do whatever they wanted to do
I used to see them pass by
Quite often you see
I would give them a wave
And they would say hello to me
Over the years as time flew by
Seeing them ambling along the lane
Became an early morning ritual
But I still did not know his name
It turned out to be Charlie
So both he and Butch who was an old Labrador
Became great friends of mine
As each morning they passed by my door
They kept themselves to them selves
Rarely did Charlie pass the time of day
Not out of rudeness
Just had nothing to say
But every morning I got a smile a wave and a strong Hello
As Charlie passed by my cottage with old Butch in tow
This went on for many a year
I used to get a wave and hello
Until one Snow layered morning
I was concerned because they did not appear
It turned out that they been found a few miles away
Victims of the snow and the cold I did fear
Sadly now it would seem they never grow older
And amazingly at Charlie's funeral the church was full with neighbors
Close to a hundred or more all packed together
All sang their hearts out
All had made the effort despite the inclement weather
When it was all over a real surprise was had
When they were clearing out Charlies old house
They did not expect to find much
Just a few meagre belongings and the odd mouse
But hidden away in an old Bureau draw put out of sight some years before
Was a collection of pictures and Memorabilia wrapped in a old cloth
Showing Charlie in Uniform in the First World War
Along with some comrades of his old regiment hidden away from any old moth
There was a small box that was the most astonishing of all
For inside wrapped up neatly was a Victoria Cross and another medal or two
So neat and so small it turns out old Charlie was a war Hero
It's the secret he kept known only to a chosen few
So it's amazing to think he was a man I once thought I knew
I used to wave to daily as he passed by my Cottage, him and old Butch the dog his best friend
But never realized he was such a hero
Right up to his life's end.