Heroes and Role Models
Great-Grandma Beebe
by Sarah Slaughter
Stooped little gnome
picking corn and cucumbers
her paper white hair
pulled back in a bun.
She digs up weeds
while rich raspberry pies
cool in the window.
Stubbornly refusing to move
in with someone else
She lives all alone
in her little old house.
She's never without the turquoise shawl
I crocheted three years ago
Her prized possession
since the loss of Fred
so many gardens ago.
She Came Calling
by Verian Thomas
Death arrived in a cardigan with mis-matched
buttons,
she put her shopping down and was very grateful
for the cup of tea I made, she sipped, little finger sticking out,
I offered her some cake and she cut it with a little silver scythe.
Death told me not to worry, there was no rush today,
her hairdressing appointment wasn't until two,
I think she was lonely and just wanted to chat
so I talked about the weather and this and that.
Death pulled a pair of half glasses from her handbag
and perched them on the end of her nose,
licked the end of a pencil, crossed off my name
in her little black book and then gave me a look.
She chatted some more, how proud she was of her son
who was off at university getting a good education,
then she told me that my heart had stopped some minutes before
I nodded, then co-operatively sank to the floor.
Robin Confesses
I didn't take the
money for myself.
People were hungry, children with
clothes in rags, cold feet, blue lips.
They were eating cabbage, boiled and gluey,
bread when they could get it.
I lost good friends in the forest,
buried them in motley and green,
Their skin pierced by sharp arrows,
a coin of gold on each tongue.
That fat tyrant in his stone castle,
gloating while we starved.
He didn't need the deer,
the pheasants we poached,
the gold we stole and passed on.
I was right sneaky shooting in disguise.
The targets were fair and that golden
arrow shone in the sun.
It would buy a lot of bread.
Marian's eyes were wary but proud
and I can't deny it felt good.
They're singing songs about me.
Now I'm the one that's proud but wary.
The Queen of Hearts
by Rachael Sage Payne
We sat around the table,
A heart-shaped cake in the middle
A bowl of strawberries and custard
A fire in the wood-stove.
They were inviting,
And had been for many years
And it showed in their faces and smiles
And in the light in their eyes.
I was welcome there
And I wanted to stay for a while
For a childhood almost, or just until
I had learned but an inkling.
The head of the table
Was not taken by a man,
But graced with a presence of strength
And beauty, and motherhood.
Tall and straight she sat up
With her long hair cascading,
Like a wise and benevolent and radiant
Queen on her throne.
I was filled with questions
To which I felt certain
She had all the universally perfect answers,
For which I'd been searching.
But I sat to her right
Under red and pink streamers
Sipping white wine, and nibbling sweet cake,
And just enjoying the company.
Two Kinds
by Chris Patterson
Like many words
in our mother tongue,
the word "hero"
conjures up more
than one image.
The first kind of hero
hears the roar of the
crowd as they win one
for the home team.
They receive standing
ovations for incredibly
moving performances.
They have thousands
of fresh, young faces
looking up to them
with eyes wide and
hearts open.
The other kind of hero
doesn't have an audience.
Their heroic actions take
place on the street, in
courtrooms, political prisons
or refugee camps.
It's not the multi-million
dollar contracts or the
commercial endorsements
that motivate them.
It's their convictions and
principals that inspire them to
fight for the lives and rights
of others at great personal
risk.
When you strip away the
costumes, uniforms, and
glamour of the first hero,
the humanity revealed
seems small in comparison.
While the second hero
wears their humanity
draped across their
shoulders like a cape
unfurled in the wind.
You may never know
their names,
but you can see how
the world has changed
because of them.
To be the first kind
of hero, you have to
have an innate talent.
To be the second kind
of hero, all you need is to
find the courage within.
If not for fear, we could all be heroes.