Once upon a time

Chapter one

                            Once upon a time

A lone man is waiting for a friend. It is a hot Summer day in late June 2018. He is sitting by the lake at Stoney Creek. He watched the mamas and the children play and swim in the lake from a distance. He remember the prettiest girl he had ever knew. It was June 1973 and she was the girl with the flowers in her hair. He loved her Irish accent and her hazel eyes. She was a poet and wanderer. He wrote a poem into a almost filled journal.

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                          Lovely girl

Dear Abigail, Dear Abigail.

I lost you three times in my life of confusion,

we danced on fire and iron wishes.

We didn't know,

life changes at her will.

Not ours.

Life is written in steel and ashes,

not hope and sweetness.

I do remember us.

I loved your cinnamon kisses and the long talks we had.

You were the first girl who notice me,

read my words with kind eyes.

Made me feel important.

Abigail, my keepsake wish,

I never could forget you.

The Fall of life is coming and 

I remember you.

You and I,

We were ambrosia wine and Port Austin trips.

Once we made great promises and today.

We meet.

Maybe an final goodbye or the kindest hello? Maybe we learned.

We were running too fast,

we had love near and forgot to hold on.

_____________________________________

He remember her last words to him in 1973 when he was leaving for the Army training. "Johnnie, Johnnie. You want the damn Vietnam war. Please Johnnie, stay with me. The war will kill the poet, the kind man I know. You won't return the same. You are following the Hemingway wish you hold closely. Hemingway killed himself. What did he learn? He knew love, he knew blood, he knew drink, he traveled  and he died alone. Please dear Johnnie. Don't begin a journey where you will learn realistic life. War does not teach us anything. Please stay with me. Escape to Port Austin, me and you, we could swim in Lake Huron and we could try to save our world. He remembered her tears and he didn't know. She was right.

In 1975. In April, he remembered the final days in Vietnam. Once alive city was dying. He befriended many in the city of Saigon. He still see their faces at the gates as the USA Army escaped. Trying to escape before the city was overtook. He remembered, he wasn't afraid. He stayed for a extra tour. He liked the stress of war. He was a supply sergeant, who could wheel and deal everything from guns to food. He forgot home and his family. He received letters from mother and Grandmother. Dear Abigail quit writing after no response for 18 months. He remembered he laughed at his ugly face. Vietnam made his tender soul become dark. Today he wondered. Was his soul, always black? He was sad to leave Vietnam. The drink was strong, the nights lasted forever and soldiers lived and die daily. Each new day. One more day to live. He wrote little now, once poet became the seeker, not the writer.

He kept every letter from his father, mother and grandmother. The letters from Abigail, he read today still. Her words were honey and sweet. She wrote a poem for him in her last letter.

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                            Live, please live and don't forget me

Johnnie, Johnnie.

You found your damn war,

dear love,

did war teach you to forget me?

I pray for you everyday.

I pray you are safe and sound.

I see the TV,

soldiers dying and so many people being killed.

Please be safe and please remember.

I love the poet who danced with me at Port Austin.

Please don't die and come back to me,

please be careful and remember.

I love you so.

                    Abigail (Sending a thousand kisses)

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He was awoken by the sound of the children near. He saw the mothers taking care of their babies. He looked at his watch. At noon, dear Abigail would come to Stoney Creek. Been 24 years since their last meeting. In two hours. Two different people will have a stand-off. He knew. He was the cold hearten one. Abigail try to save him twice. She had a hard life and she had a good life. He knew life was fair. You decide your place and your journey.

                            Dancing Coyote

Author's Note

Story based on father and my experiences.

Reviews

[emmajoy]

'I see the TV, - soldiers dying and so many people being killed. - Please be safe and please remember. - I love the poet who danced with me .. '

You so often write words that hit me between the eyes, make me feel so deeply, i don't know how to think or feel for a while, am numbed by the emotions trapped between each word. John, you have a way of making love eternal, whether it's physical or not. You don't break it into pieces, you don't analyse your own side of the feeling but open your arms to how it was, and, somehow, still remains. Not a touch of cynicism. Maybe its cos in spite of your experiences, you still welcome love in all its guises. Beautiful writing.. and, memorable.

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you dear Emma. I appreciate the comment. You are very kind.

[Cherrie Palmer]

I love the blending of your story. I like to do that as well. Mixing what I know with what I have been told. It's a very effective way to build a tale that will always resonate with the reader.

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Cherrie. The story become harder and sadder.

[Cherrie Palmer]

The past can mark us. sometimes we can't let ourselves be happy.
I'm sure many a warrior cannot find the man in the mirror that his sweetheart has been writing to. They only look the same to her. To him that's another story. That has a sad ending.

[Crowley]

A portrait of love, life and war, painted as only you can show us. I love the timeline, the images and the desperation. A marvelous reminder, story and poetry my man!!!

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Crowley. I shall finish this one next week. I appreciate the comment my friend.

[Paul Bell]

It's always strange how war is okay when you're actually doing it. Everything is normal, or as normal as war allows. It's when you leave things become abnormal. Probably why the military drink themselves to death when they leave service. But one great thing in war. The mail always gets through.

[Coyote Poetry]

You are right. The mail seem to find you somehow my friend Paul. Thank you for reading and the comment. I do appreciate.

[VALORMORE DE PLUME]

This is a good start for an epic tale. The poetry infusion, leaves an open door for letters -from and to- home. In the interim; connected lives expand and contract, due to changing circumstance.Look forward to more.

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you my friend for reading and the comment. I do appreciate.

[VALORMORE DE PLUME]

My pleasure my friend.

[‘Thoughts In Time..]

Sometimes we need to follow the journey that we only know what it means and we need to do this to settle our soul- not many will understand but that’s the chance we take- rather than regret we learn from the lessons of life-🌹

[Coyote Poetry]

Some lessons teach us the wrong things. Thank you dear Kelly for reading and the comment. I do appreciate.

[‘Thoughts In Time’🌹]

Well if we know wtong we learn to choose right??? Pleasure - i love reading your work🌹

[Neville]

Damn it brother.. you just made this old guy cry.. you have such a mighty way with words.. I salute you again and I'm sure I will.. over and over...

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Neville. I appreciate your comment.

[Neville]

my sincere pleasure, as always..