My father, who I hardly knew,
Was never one to shirk.
He died in nineteen twenty four,
While helping friends at work.

He came from Colorado,
Where the men were taught to ride.
He joined the Army Engineers,
And did the job with pride.

At first, he went to Texas,
Where he joined a border fight,
Controlling Pancho Villa;
And the Army did it right.

When more important war developed,
Far across the sea,
He went to France in World War One
To battle Germany.

When peace was won, he married young,
And started family.
But long and healthy life for him
Just wasn't meant to be.

A good mechanic, then, he was;
'Sixteenth and L, ' his base.
'A place for everything, ' he'd say,
'And everything in place.'

While helping string a high antenna,
From the shop, outside,
A rotted window sill gave way.
He fell.
That's how he died.

(Mother told her three children about their father as they grew up.
I wrote this poem about him in Falls Church, Virginia, during October 1985.)


About Frank V. Gardner


Frank, born in Washington, lived his early years in the small community of Glencarlyn, across the Potomac River from the Nation's Capital, in Arlington County, Virginia. After his father, Francis I. V. Gardner, died in a construction accident. his mother, Marie Gardner, moved with Frank, age four, and his two sisters, back to Washington, where she went to work as a clerk-typist for the U. S. Government. Frank attended elementary and high school in Washington. After completing two years of college in 1942, Frank enlisted in the U. S. Marine Corps to fight in World War Two. After boot camp... Read more...

Poet of the day

Born in 1714 in Halesowen (now Worcestershire) England living at the family home 'The Leasowes'. Halesowen, which, up to the early years of the 18th century was in part of Shropshire. He was educated at Solihull Grammar School, where he met and became firm friends with the future poet Richard...
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Poem of the day


Jeg saae kun tilbage. Mig Livets Lyst bortklang;
Da toned mig i Sjælen saa trøstelig en Sang;
See frem, men ei tilbage! Hvad Hjertet attraaer,
Maaskee dog engang under Solen du naaer.

Lad Bølger bortrulle! lad Løvet flagre hen!
Rask bruser dog Strømmen, frisk Skoven staaer...
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