The Denouement of a Life Eighty-Six Years in Revolution

The Denouement of a Life Eighty-Six Years in Revolution

Written by Jonathan Henderson

January 21, 2014 @ 10:25 PM

Lying upon her bed, poked, prodded,

An undignified position, she confided

To herself, for whom it only matters,

And her soul, slowly fleeing her shell.

Her leg so afflicts her for now, and

Yet she doesn't mind, for she's a fighter

Like a soldier, dug into the trenches, 

A member of the greatest generation

Of a world's people they'll ever know.

To some, she is but a needle in hay,

Nothing spectacular, just some face,

Though she might be a fish in a sea,

She'll forever be my Granny to me.

Staring into space, she rides home,

Only in mind, as she awaits the day

She'll spend the next one-sixth abroad

Living a far from her home, her soul,

And she sheds tears, not one in sorrow,

Nor in remorse, for she has done well.

She's erred in ways and lived in Hell,

And she'll always cast her own stone.

Oh Granny, draw strength from me, 

Never flee from your mind by night,

For as you are drilled like a Marine,

I shall forever have your backside.

Upon first notice of four years post,

The bad break nearly befell you, but

Your bite was worse than your bark,

And I felt its wrath here North, too.

And Granny, please never feel as if

Your beloved don't care, for we shall

Always pray and be nigh, and we shall

Always stand to sing for you a lullaby,

As you are my lone connection dated of
The time three score and ten years ago.

Regardless, you'll always be my Granny;

Tis all that I shall ever want from thee:

Let us sail together upon our ocean's stars
Till twilight's last gleam: we must depart.