My Grandfather was well read, well educated and well spoken. Very bright my grandfather was and loved to express his thoughts on paper. The man yearned to be published and to be appreciated even at some token level.
Oh Granda, decades ahead of your time…you would never know that the world just wasn’t ready for the way you looked at it.
Most of his writings were destroyed by his own hand…burning and expunging his apparent failure, at never being accepted into the literary world.
All of his prose and witty anecdotes like himself are gone…but not quite all, for as you will see we found a poem that escaped the incinerator.
I promise you Granda I will have you published.
So here from the mind of my Father’s Father is a poem that he wrote in 1943 Britain during the Blitz…
“A Thought on Religious Warfare”
By: John Ross – 1943
Since time began,
The sons of man
Amongst themselves have striven,
With might and main
O’er hill and plain,
In holy greed
They have, indeed,
Used common shot and shell
To mount the scroll
On honours roll,
As war unloosed,
Has but reduced
Religion to a swindle
A fickle thought
When shell and shot
Made peace on Earth dwindle.