Your
Grandad’s medals sit in my drawer
Presented
to him at the end of the war
And
though he left us when you were young
I keep
them to remind me of songs he sung
Like
Waltzing Matilda and Danny Boy
Always
lusty and sung with joy
On Anzac
Day in Seventy Two
He
beamed with pride when he first saw you
And so today my son I have them on view
To remind
me of the terror that he went through
Believing
his land would be safe from harm
If he
shouldered a rifle over his arm
I hope
like him the day will come
When
there will be no need for a mother’s son
To be asked
to make such sacrifice
And for
our young country to pay such a price
And
though you left us when you were young
Presented
to you at the end of the war
Your medals
sit safely in my drawer
We keep
them to remind us of songs you sung
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