The Shearer's Widow

The old poetess Ann sat by the fire she was in the mood for rhyme
Her thoughts were of her younger years when she was in her prime
When she was with the sheep shearer Dave the great love of her life
The man who fathered her son Joe and who took her for his wife.

Her sheep shearing husband died young when he was fifty four
And she has been a widow for twenty five years or more
And Joe their son in battle fell he was a brave young man
He was brought back in a body bag from the jungles of Vietnam.

The thoughts of war and the waste of young lives to poetry her inspire
And she pens an anti war poem as she sits there by the fire
She knows of the tragedy of war and from war sorrow was her gain
And she regrets that war lives on and that her son he died in vain.

In her late seventies the years have left her looking old and gray
But on looking back her young years seem like only yesterday
When she was the wife of Shearer Dave and mother to young Joe
But time for anyone doesn't wait the Seasons come and go.

The shearer's widow sits by the fire an anti war poem is in her head
The husband and son that she loved are lying with the dead
And she will go to join them in the not too distant day
For time doesn't wait for anyone it ticks and ticks away.

by Francis Duggan

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