An original poem for Remembrance Day

In recognition of Remembrance Day, I thought I’d share an original poem, one which I’m attributing to an Australian soldier, Bluey Plunkett.

Return is one of two poems written in the back of my grandfather’s World War Two diary, and must have meant something to him. One poem, Zeroes Over Lae, is specifically noted as being written by ‘Bluey’ Plunkett, a fellow soldier in his section. The other poem, Return, doesn’t have a name attached, but I believe was probably also written by Bluey. It has a similar style and rhythm.

I think Return is very evocative, and as far as I can tell, it’s never been published anywhere before. I’ve reproduced it as written in the diary, including spelling and punctuation, some of which may be due to the original reproduction.

Please respect the creator, and if you wish to share this poem, only do so with appropriate acknowledgement.

Return

Attributed to ‘Bluey’ Plunkett, circa 1943.

There are crowds along the footpaths

There is shouting in the bars

And excitement in the houses

And soft eyes ‘neath Southern Stars

There are women at the windows

Keeping vigil for the men

Who have won the dark blue chevron

And are coming home again.

There are men who sailed in sadness

Fought with sternness far away

Men who bade farewell to living

Yet kept living day by day.

There are cobbers with a welcome

(Jokes & questions interposed

In the mask o’er the feelings

while the gap of years is closed)

There are parties, there are revels,

There are calmer sessions, then

The talk gets down to bedrock,

With the men now home again.

There are men who went to duty,

Dared for duty with a smile

And came back to those they fought for,

And found the job worthwhile.

There are women who have waited,

Lonely bravely smiling hearts

Who have worked & loved together,

To anaesthetise their smarts

Whose nights have oft been empty,

Whose days have dragged, & then

their lives have all been sunshines,

As the men come home again.

There are men who came from solitude,

To look on the loves they left

And to march to other battlefields,

of their loves again bereft.

There are men & women thinking,

As the welcomes race around

Of the far off kiss & handshake,

And the transport outward bound

And the brave hearts that went with them,

And bled on a far terrain –

And they pause awhile to remember –

Those who came not back again,

There are men who walk with heroes,

Though their voice & step be gone –

And their spirit tarries with us –

And it bids us –

“CARRY ON”!

A poppy artwork

 

2 comments

  1. That was beautiful. I got teary reading so had to stop and clean my glasses. I had a meeting this morning at our FHS so was asked to write something. I wrote about how my grandfather lost 2 brothers and the other two were gassed.

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