Carving the Wood

by | Aug 10, 2006 | Poetry | 0 comments

I sat and I pondered,
what could I do.
That would be a fitting memorial
to my friends and comrades like you.

I knew in my mind
what I wanted,
the size and intracacies
of how it would be.

I found a trunk
from the Hawthorn tree,
and in my heart knew
that this it would be.

The shape and the texture
was right this I knew,
so I started to work
in memory of you.

For 2 long months
I did what I could,
even when cold and wet,
with memories I stood.

Working the hawthorn
with chisel & maul,
with knife and file
working what I saw.

Working the wood
with NIVA inside,
from my mind to the wood
working with pride.

The memories still there
as fresh as the day,
deep in my heart
they won’t go away.

I finished the monument
and was filled with pride,
a momento to “My Muckers”
while I still reside.

“N.I.V.A.” it says
in a plaque of Ulster,
We’ll not forget you
or those who suffer still.


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