This man who grew in Ireland's tearful times <br />When England, whose leaders went untried <br />For all their manifold war crimes, <br />Finally relinquished their spiteful grip <br />And Ireland suffered still because of it <br /> <br />And so you grew, through all those leaner times <br />By Christian brothers you learned your lines (by God you did) <br />Then to the butcher there to learn without a pay <br />Except for when your Saturday <br />Was also spent in service to O'Rourke <br /> <br />Your father, by whose hand your were raised <br />Put you on the drums whilst still a lad <br />Your short pants an embarrassment <br />When local lasses giggled at your knees <br /> <br />The army butcher you became <br />And lost the carriage one fine day <br />When the spirited horse did rear and bolt <br />The carriage wrecked - but you walked away <br /> <br />Then onto the ships and Lizzie one <br />To second butcher you'd become <br />Until in Southampton you met Helen, our Mum <br />And married her <br /> <br />You sired five healthy children then, <br />Though fathering was not your suit <br />Too many ghosts I do suspect, unlaid till now you be laid as well <br />So you worked hard and played away, upon your drums <br />And we grew up and made the best with mum <br /> <br />So many things we learned but were not taught <br />So many errors carried down the line <br />But now as I reflect on you and on my self <br />I see how blind we all can be, and also now <br />I see the child you were, the child named James <br /> <br />A perfect soul born without the scourge of blames <br />I touch that spirit now within my heart <br />And find my own, as all the fleeting shadows now depart <br />I know you are my Dad and I your Son <br />So let us join, a moment now, before we part<br /><br />Shaun William Hayes<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/how-shall-i-remember-you-my-father/
