Another year passed
A presence in my heart.
So many soldiers gone
Lives quickly torn apart.
Remembering my father’s description,
Of the day he had to land,
On the bleeding beaches of Normandy;
An impossible mission at hand.
A collection of memories imbedded in his mind,
His intense desire to enlighten me,
His thick, deep voice full of pride.
I felt his passion,
occasional tear in his eye.
His graphic drawing mapping it out,
almost placing me there.
In cold and lonely trenches
Days and nights full of fear.
As he etched his path on a frail and tattered map,
Details of his story to unwind
A pause here and there;
words were hard to find.
A silken masterpiece with frazzled edges,
History of men left behind,
They will always be remembered.
Documenting his struggle survived,
The integrity of a man unmeasured,
This man I so treasured.
It was carried through miles and years
This timeless piece;
The pride of men who laid their life on the line.
Gratitude for their sacrifice,
a brotherhood so divine.
A historical path of the men
Who would not let themselves fail.
Such a precious gift they gave to us
Our freedom to prevail.
The Camaraderie of those men,
Witness of devastation.
The loss of the brothers loved,
Their loyalty would lift them.
We knew our time was running out,
That summer was our last,
our laughter still at play;
A piece of his legacy he handed me that day.
It was the greatest gift my father
Had ever given to me,
A piece of his life, his legacy,
I could take with me.
Such a special sight to see.
The long rows of flags displayed today,
Blossoming flowers making a path along the way,
This cemetery where I pray.
I know I am not alone,
I have his legacy for my own.
Our loves lost and our lives changed,
I know they died for me.
They made the ultimate sacrifice
So we could all live free.
- Cynthia Muir-Davies