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When Hitler threw open the gate of war, he had no doubt that his enemies would blunder and fumble through years
of ineptitude. A game to him, Hitler
watched and waited.
The small village of Cranville-off-Trent lined the
streets as their own brave boys set
off to war. Tears, so many tears dropped
onto the cobblestone street where their sons had walked. Come
home! Write!
At the "River and Trout" where publican Jim Garvey served many pints that day, he listened
with equanimity and
compassion for his patrons. Many pints over days, months, and then years were
served, as Jimmy comforted despondent
friends, waiting for their boys.
Slowly, brave boys returned home, one by one. Grieving parents, whose sons lay in graves
somewhere, cheered for each young man.
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Jim served many pints each time. And he always poured a pint in memory of
those who did not march home. Here’s to
ye, brave lads. God love ye and keep ye.
Two words sent me down this road: publican and despondent. We knew many publicans (pub owners) in Ireland, all good kind souls. Most of them did not drink.
These bold underlined words are compliments of Elephant's Child for Wednesday Words. Please click on her site, sit back and enjoy. E.C.'s blogs always provide beauty and interest.
And....please look at the random words and take some time to write anything that inspires you!
