Showing posts with label Grandma's. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Grandma's. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Grandma's "Good War" now available!
Grandma’s “Good War” is now available from www.amazon.com, www.createspace.com, or Border Press, PO Box 3124, Sewanee, TN 37375 ($13.37 including SH & taxes)! Readers from DC to CA have purchased it and the reviews are good. The poems especially resonate with those who grew up during WWII. If you haven’t purchased yet, now is the time.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Grandma's Good War
I was a child during World War Two
burdened with adult tasks to do,
in backyard plots planted row after row of garden seed,
cleared away clump after clump of coco weed,
collected scrap iron by the wagonload
and stacks of newspaper, crinkled and old,
the iron to be melted for weapons of war,
the paper recycled and sent afar,
bought war stamps and war bonds from Uncle Sam,
savored lunches of Vienna sausage, tins of Spam,
complained about rations of chocolate kisses and coca cola,
played thick, black records on an ancient Victrola.
sang “Off We Go” and war songs galore,
in air raid drills, lay stiffly on oily wood floors,
loved to say aloud “Tojo, Hitler, and Mussolini,
Okinawa, Guadalcanal, and Iwo Jima.”
On V-J day, celebrated war’s end in a dancing crowd,
ignoring the shadow of a mushroom-shaped cloud,
was proud to be a patriot who loved the victorious USA,
remembering WWII as the period of a better day,
at armistice, believed all wars would cease …
and the world would bask in the sun of peace.
by Diane Moore
Title poem of my latest chapbook: Grandma's Good War, A Verse Retrospective of the Forties
burdened with adult tasks to do,
in backyard plots planted row after row of garden seed,
cleared away clump after clump of coco weed,
collected scrap iron by the wagonload
and stacks of newspaper, crinkled and old,
the iron to be melted for weapons of war,
the paper recycled and sent afar,
bought war stamps and war bonds from Uncle Sam,
savored lunches of Vienna sausage, tins of Spam,
complained about rations of chocolate kisses and coca cola,
played thick, black records on an ancient Victrola.
sang “Off We Go” and war songs galore,
in air raid drills, lay stiffly on oily wood floors,
loved to say aloud “Tojo, Hitler, and Mussolini,
Okinawa, Guadalcanal, and Iwo Jima.”
On V-J day, celebrated war’s end in a dancing crowd,
ignoring the shadow of a mushroom-shaped cloud,
was proud to be a patriot who loved the victorious USA,
remembering WWII as the period of a better day,
at armistice, believed all wars would cease …
and the world would bask in the sun of peace.
by Diane Moore
Title poem of my latest chapbook: Grandma's Good War, A Verse Retrospective of the Forties
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