A Poem Written by my Niece

In His Green Chair

In his green chair he sits and stares,
Remembering times of despair.
Watching his westerns and the news,
Guns ablaze as John Wayne fights through,
Reminding him of the warfare.

He is my grandpa. And he cares
In his silence with loving glares,
Sits a tail gunner from World War III
In his green chair.
He saved many lives in the air
And lost more friends then I could bear.
He fought for our country, me, and you,
Representing red, white, and blue.
Sitting, after much wear and tear,
In his green chair.

-Madison Blake 11/11/09