Terry D. Sutherland
GWEN
Her name was Gwendolyn
I met her on a plane
She was headed for Brooklyn
I was going to Spain
We laid over in DC
And talked through the night
Her mission was to set men free
Mine was to fight
We knew when we met that night
Men were never free
And soldiers always fight
We both knew what ought to be
We discussed it with delight
She wore tie dyed shirts
I wore Army Green
She had a hippie skirt
I was shaven clean
We made a strange set
As opposite as could be
Anyone would have bet
She had no common ground with me
As we talked we discovered
That love is a state of mind
Any beliefs uncovered
Love had rendered blind
When the night turned day
She went on another plane
And I was on my way
We waved goodbye forever
In the pouring rain
I wonder whatever happened to Gwen;
Some forty years have passed.
Does she still try to free all men?
Are there other questions asked?
Does she still demonstrate
Against all forms of war?
Has she faced the Magistrate
For rallies she has scored?
I guess I’ll always wonder
What became of Gwen.
Does she still rain thunder
Along with her mad young men?
©Copyright April 26, 2007 by Terry Sutherland