it is a beautiful sunny day in Dubbo today so I hope you are all seeing the sunshine as well.Here is one of my poems that I would like to share with you. It is about my Grandfather William Hopkins and it's a bit sad but I hope you enjoy it and would love to hear what you think about it.
People coming and going at the railway station, busy on their way,
Gathering their bags and organising their goods after a long tiring day.
Rushing to get to their homes to be with their families at last,
People notice a little boy standing alone with his baby sister as they walk past.
He stands beside her in her basket, where she’s wrapped up tight,
But no mother around that anyone can see, no one in sight.
People walk by assuming their mum will soon be back,
But there they sit alone, by the railway track.
His sister screams for her mum and he comforts her as much as he can,
Her mother is what she wants, to find her is his plan.
The people scatter from the Station, and then the Station Master knows for sure,
They have been left by themselves and their mother is there no more.
The little boy only 3, knows his name is William but his sister’s he does not know,
He wears a coat many sizes too big, in it the name Hopkins which someone did sew.
He looks around in fear, waiting for his mother to be found,
“She said she be right back” he thought, but she’s nowhere around.
He is taken with his sister to a family’s place for the night,
He sleeps in a place that is unknown, certain he will see his mum in the morning light.
The morning comes but not his mum, people are talking and making plans,
He meets a lady who smiles and says “hello” and gently holds his hands.
“Would you like to come and stay with me for a while?”
What choice does he have, he’s scared but he manages a little smile.
He turns to get his sister but she is staying where she lay,
He tries to tell her he has to go, she doesn’t understand, what more can he say.
He never sees her again and feels guilty that he’d left her there,
He still wakes up in the middle of the night and wonders why his mum left that little pair.
The name Hopkins has stuck with him and his three generations so far,
Where it came from he’ll never know but he’ll always carry the scar.
