13 July 2012
She sits alone, in her red chair Spends each day sitting there Casting her mind back to the past With memories that will forever last She thinks fondly of past times When she was young, in her prime
The war was on, life was tough Her family had always had it rough She was stunning, a beauty queen A quiet young girl of seventeen Her man had already gotten the call More like a boy, but weren't they all?
Determined to help, she set to work Firstly as a hospital clerk The doctors tried to save young lives Whilst she consoled mothers, wives But keeping records was not right She wanted more to help the fight
So she went to make the parts That made up an aircrafts heart She worked for hours and hours Thinking of halting grave flowers Making it right could save a life In a battle's madness and strife
Better still it could save her love The pilot who called her his dove A young boy more than a man To help him she'd do all she can Bombs whistled about her town But she never let it bring her down
Then one day she received the letter Yellow telegraph promising better Instead it said of heroic sacrifice Said he'd gone to paradise Her man had gone, who was to blame She sat and sobbed, whispering his name
Nearing the end of her belief She decided to power through grief She worked longer, harder than ever Remembering their time together She tried to bring home all home So no one but her would be alone
In those days she could nimbly move Now she's trapped in a record groove She can't get up or walk too much Age has used it's halting touch Softly she sings of bluebirds in Dover The same old cliffs her boy flew over
Delicately dreaming of these old days That passed under a smoky haze She remembers her love, what she lost She remembers what all wars cost Now she sits silently alone An aged queen upon her throne
I.Sparrow
A Day In The Life: Elderly Hero • Opuss № I