Julia

a time to remember our loved ones on national poetry day and remember the strengths and weaknesses that can tie us together….

Photo by Daria Obymaha on Pexels.com

What a fair and curious child little Julia was

Happy to sit and play and dance and gather up the moss

A tall man would come from just up the road

his house so very different, from the house where she had grown

he’d pay her a visit from time to time, she was thrilled for such attention

for a child so young she would notice her siblings got no mention

and as she played in the bog, others around would tease her

still, merrily in her naivety, she wouldn’t let it displease her

sometimes he’d give her a penny and place it in her hand

she’d curl her fingers around it, and wonder about this man

she never quite knew why he came to spend time with her alone

He’d wander from the big house, the one that made the quarry stone

she just a farmer’s daughter tending to their lot

fierce with pride and dignity they took care of what they got

her daddy with his callused hands and furrows on his brow

looked tired and worn and beaten down, his eyes full of sorrow

many mouths to feed he ploughed right on and his eldest daughter helped

as she swept and cleaned and cooked for those, up at the big house

her mother busied daily, keeping Julia close by her side

this little child she loved so much had filled her heart with pride

for Julia was only 4 years old in the year of 1916

unaware of the trouble and toils that came from the Easter Rising

A simple carefree country girl now the only one left at home

Her big brother and big sister, to England they had flown

But still he came, the tall gentleman, and sit and sip some tea

Cautious in how he spoke to her and to her mammy

Polite in his manner, he wore a rather tall hat

Always tipped, then took it off and laid it on his lap

A man with many children, he had a large family

Julia never understood, ‘why does he come see me’

His older son was sent away when he was only 16

To join the British army and has not been back to Meath

Well that was 4 years ago now and though he is very proud

There is something hanging over his head like a big grey cloud

Mammy seems a little sad, when the man comes by to chat

But she is polite and kind to him and Julia is pleased with that

When Julia is only 9 years old the man could come no more

Some say it was a broken heart, but they cannot be sure

Not yet a man of 60, his time had come to pass

No more would he wander down from the big stone house

As Julia grew older it was time to tell the truth

The tall man was her grandpa, yet she didn’t have a clue

Her mammy was really her nanny and raised her as her own

And her ‘mammy’ was her sister where to England she had flown

And later on after that her ‘father’ too would visit

Back from the British Army, he came back home to Meath

Always through a veil of somewhat secrecy

George would visit Julia with his new wife, the Lady

And though she felt quite happy that they would come for tea

It was a reminder of how very proud she was of her strong family

For back in the year 1912 it must have been unnerving

But strength and pride and dignity were qualities they were preserving

Author: itsjustnoteasy

Hi, I am a 50 something stay at home mother, grandmother and daughter of elderly (ish) parents. I do however, volunteer twice a week in a charity shop, mind grand children on occasion and of course do any other running around required by extended family. Prior to being a stay at home mum, I have worked at many different jobs, changed career a few times and gathered lots of stories along the way, which I hope you will enjoy as we begin our new relationship. I hope I will be able to entertain, engage and enlighten you, if only a small bit. Life is short, so lets have some fun. Looking forward to getting up and running (metaphorically speaking of course) as I have no intention of running anywhere! Perish the thought!! Thanks for stopping by, Carrie x

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