A Hero's Breakfast
His cracked old hands
Hand my son a plate of eggs
It’s hard to believe this hero
Is still sitting here today
His twinkling, wrinkled eyes
Tell stories that the books do not
His half paralyzed face
Speak of the battles he fought.
His memory is not so sharp anymore
But those glory days crystal clear
Storming the beaches of Normandy
The gunfire I can almost hear
He munches on toast at the table
Next to his great grandson
Another lucky generation
To hear the tales of this Great One.
He claims Patton wanted him dead,
He always says with a smile and laugh
For to the front line he was always sent
But somehow he kept making it back.
I sit, amused as he giggles
At how scared he was this time and that
Freezing his limbs in the Battle of the Bulge,
I’m glad our country is finally paying him back.
His limbs still ache from those days
But his eyes are so full of light
This is a man of honor,
A brave soul who fought for what was right
Honorably discharged for his injuries,
Sent home, and he married,
But instead of staying, he re-enlisted,
He didn’t allow himself to be wary.
He speaks of being afraid,
But I see a true hero, valor he displays,
There is no fear in this man
Even while lovingly cutting up eggs.
His badges and pins showcase a war hero
But his best job is being Grampy
Sitting, eating his hero’s breakfast,
And all those who join him are lucky!