Colin F. Jones


~ 1 ~

Tis all those things that children feel,
Be they imagined or be they real,
That paint the insides of our brain,
Discovered when old age we gain.
Greener bones back then did bend,
That take a long time now to mend,
Yet every pain and every guilt,
We thought back then we never felt,
Seeps through our tired bodies now,
To punish us for youth somehow.
I must have done so many things
To have so many painful limbs;
For where I once ran everywhere,
I cannot walk without despair.

~ 2 ~

I have never thought of going back,
To replenish what I now do lack,
For most of that time was so bad,
I would want the things I never had.
Which to most folk would normal be,
For my life was never normal see.
The trend it seems has tagged along,
For now content where I belong,
There comes this persistent agony,
That will not ever leave me be.
Yet I find comfort in fine friends,
I’ve never met but yet love sends,
And helps me through each passing day,
For negative thoughts oft go away.

~ 3 ~

Tis all I have my wife to love,
And she loves me and God above,
Who does not help her in her pain,
That seeks to cripple her and maim.
Tis all I have our family,
Those laughing eyes of children free,
Who give me love I’ve never had,
That makes me feel so very sad.
I wish that folk could understand,
Why I reach not for their offered hand,
Why I am hostile to their ways,
Their self importance that portrays,
Their insincere acts and false displays,
That in the end friendship betrays

~ 4 ~

Tis always, “I know this.” or “I know that.”
And, “That bloke there is just a rat.”
Or, “don’t you know I’m always right.”
“You always argue; want to fight”
“So what? You’ve been to Vietnam,
Your pension is a social scam,
Where are the scars, the wounds, the rips?”
(Tis sad what comes from spiteful lips)
But always one is taken back,
To rifle boots and heavy pack,
And those young faces calm and cool,
In the smoke and heat and muddy pool,
A well-oiled machine a perfect team,
Of gunners wearing jungle green.

~ 5 ~

I feel so proud being one of those,
Who to the challenge boldly rose:
Trained to perfection slick and fast,
Trained to perform and trained to last;
Each an expert in the others role,
Each man a part of the perfect whole.
Each ready to die to save the other,
All bound together – brother-to-brother!
Had we thought and understood,
That we were forming a brotherhood
That would live forever in our thoughts,
We would have laughed with mock retorts
Yet in our lives we’ll never know,
Greater truth that such thoughts bestow.