Poems

 

Here are some poems that we really enjoy and want to share:

 

That We May Never Forget Written by Linda Montgomery (sent in by Kevin and Jane Linebaugh)

To Serve America Written by a soldier in Afghanistan

Final Inspection - A poem about a soldier defending US

Never Forget - A poem about a soldier defending US

It's The Veteran - A poem for our Veterans

The Mother of A Soldier - A poem about A mother waiting for her son

Rolling Thunder - A poem about the Run to the Wall and Brotherhood

Mansions of the Lord - A small poem from 'We Were Soldiers'

A Child's Prayer - A child from Arizona wrote their own version of 'Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep'. Out of the mouths of babes I'll tell ya.

It's the Soldier - A small Poem by Father O'Brien

Old Glory - A poem about the United States Flag

My First Visit To The Wall - A poem about a man visiting 'The Wall'

 
'The Fighting American on Freedom's Battlefield'- A poem written during Memorial Day 2001.
 

 

 

It's The Veteran

It is the VETERAN, not the preacher,
who has given us freedom of religion.

It is the VETERAN, not the reporter,
who has given us freedom of the press.

It is the VETERAN, not the poet,
who has given us freedom of speech.

It is the VETERAN, not the campus organizer,
who has given us freedom to assemble.

It is the VETERAN, not the lawyer,
who has given us the right to a fair trial.

It is the VETERAN, not the politician,
Who has given us the right to vote.



 It is the VETERAN,
who salutes the Flag,

who serves under the Flag,

ETERNAL REST GRANT THEM O LORD,
AND LET PERPETUAL LIGHT
SHINE UPON THEM

 

Mansions of the Lord
 from
'We Were Soldiers'

TO FALLEN SOLDIERS, LET US SING
 WHERE NO ROCKETS FLY OR BULLETS WING
OUR BROKEN BROTHERS LET US BRING
TO THE MANSIONS OF THE LORD

NO MORE BLEEDING, NO MORE FIGHT
NO PRAYERS PLEADING THROUGH THE NIGHT
JUST DEVINE EMBRACE, ETERNAL LIGHT
IN THE MANSIONS OF THE LORD

WHERE NO MOTHERS CRY AND NO CHILDREN WEEP
WE WILL STAND AND GUARD THOUGH THE ANGELS SLEEP
THROUGH THE AGES SAFELY KEEP
THE MANSIONS OF THE LORD

 

A Childs' Prayer

Sometimes it takes a kid to point out the source of what is wrong with our country... Since the Pledge of Allegiance and The Lord's Prayer are not allowed in most public schools anymore because the word "God" is mentioned, a kid in Arizona wrote the attached NEW School prayer. I liked it....

Now I sit me down in school
Where praying is against the rule
For this great nation under God
Finds mention of Him very odd.

If Scripture now the class recites,
It violates the Bill of Rights.
And anytime my head I bow
Becomes a Federal matter now.

Our hair can be purple, orange or green,
That's no offense; it's a freedom scene.
The law is specific, the law is precise.
Prayers spoken aloud are a serious vice.
For praying in a public hall
might offend someone with no faith at all.

In silence alone we must meditate,
God's name is prohibited by the state.
We're allowed to cuss and dress like freaks,
and pierce our noses, tongues and cheeks.
They've outlawed guns, but FIRST the Bible.
To quote the Good Book makes me liable.
We can elect a pregnant Senior Queen,
and the 'unwed daddy,' our Senior King.

It's "inappropriate" to teach right from wrong,
we're taught that such "judgments" do not belong.
We can get our condoms and birth controls,
Study witchcraft, vampires and totem poles.
But the Ten Commandments are not allowed,
no word of God must reach this crowd.
It's scary here I must confess,
When chaos reigns the school's a mess.

So, Lord, this silent plea I make:
Should I be shot; My soul please take!

Amen

If you aren't ashamed to do this, please pass this on. Jesus said, " If you are ashamed of me, I will be ashamed of you before my Father." I'm Not ashamed. Pass this on.........

 

It's the Soldier

It is the Soldier, not the reporter who has given us freedom of press It is the Soldier, not the poet who has given us freedom of speech It is the Soldier, not the campus organizer who gives us freedom to demonstrate It is the Soldier who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag. Who allows the protester to burn the flag?
--Father Dennis Edward O'Brien

 

Old Glory

I am the flag of the United States of America.
My name is Old Glory.
I fly atop the world's tallest buildings.
I stand watch in America's halls of justice.
I fly majestically over institutions of learning.
I stand guard with power in the world.
Look up and see me.
I stand for peace, honor, truth and justice.
I stand for freedom.
I am confident.
I am arrogant.
I am proud.
When I am flown with my fellow banners,
My head is a little higher,
My colors a little truer.
I bow to no one!
I am recognized all over the world.
I am worshipped - I am saluted.
I am loved - I am revered.
I am respected - and I am feared.
I have fought in every battle of every war for more than 200 years.
I was flown at Valley Forge, Gettysburg, Shiloh and Appomattox.
I was there at San Juan Hill, in the trenches of France,
In the Argonne Forest, Anzio, Rome and the beaches of Normandy.
Guam, Okinawa, Korea and KheSan, Saigon, Vietnam know me.
I was there.
I led my troops.
I was dirty, battle worn and tired, but my soldiers cheered me and I was proud.
I have been burned, torn and trampled on the streets of countries I have helped set free.
It does not hurt, for I am invincible.
I have been soiled upon, burned, torn and trampled on the streets of my country.
And when it is by those whom I've served in battle - it hurts.
But I shall overcome - for I am strong.
I have slipped the bonds of Earth and stood watch over the uncharted frontiers of space from my vantage point on the moon.
I have borne silent witness to all of America's finest hours.
But my finest hours are yet to come
When I am torn into strips and used as bandages for my wounded comrades on the Battlefield,
When I am flown at half-mast to honor my soldiers,
Or when I lie in the trembling arms of a grieving parent at the grave of their fallen son or daughter,
I am proud.
MY NAME IS OLD GLORY. LONG MAY I WAVE!

 

My First Visit To The Wall
 By Stephen R. Guilmet
June 7, 1994

On a warm and sunlit Autumn morn
I was walking through the Mall
Following a path well worn
On my visit to the Wall

The granite panels stand in line
Against the mother earth
Softly, slowly marking time
For love of life and death

Of Sons and Daughters gone to war
In another time and place
A symbol of the weight they bore
With courage, strength and grace

From the Wall I heard their message
Sent out for all to hear
Their spirits always with us
Their memory very near

I salute you men and women
For answering the call
You’ll always be remember
With your name upon the Wall. 

 

Rolling Thunder
 by
 Marsha Burks Megehee
 
  A thundering vigil of truth, trust and honor
 Of brothers chained, forgotten and denied
 Thank God the sounds of Rolling Thunder
 Grow louder than the presidents who lied.
 
 Forgotten heroes, made to be remembered
 By a nation that sacrificed their souls to war
 This roaring fire of freedom, from just an ember
 A brother's promise- brought from near and far
 
 A parade of truth, Memorial Bridge is sighted
 Old Glory's promise flying in the wind
 Tattooed Angels, CEOs, GI Joes united
 Cry "Freedom! We have not forgotten them!"
 
 The Run to The Wall where many secrets slumber
 Names, roses, gifts and loved one's tears
 On Capitol Hill they're only just a number
 Lost names no politician ever hears
 
 They thunder past the bridge at Arlington
 Phantom soldier coffins , row on row
 False tombs holding paper fathers, sons
 While secret sins of betrayal rest below
 
 Past the White House, flag of POW/MIAs
 Somber Black, head bowed , a prisoner of the past
 Rolling Thunder's promise will never go away
 Until their missing brothers - come home at last.

 


 The Mother of A Soldier
 Dedicated To My Friend Jan
By Snakebite
The Mother of a Soldier
Sits at home today
Waiting for some news
from her son so far away.

The Mother of a Soldier
fights a war of her own
she rounds up friends and family
to send some postcards from home.

She rallies on for countless months
collecting items to send
to her son so far away
and to many of his friends.

The Mother of a Soldier
lays awake at night
fearing for her child
so far from her sight

The Mother of a Soldier
fights the war in her dreams
she walked along beside her son
and wonders what it means.

The Mother of a Soldier
has just heard good news today
her son will now be coming home
he doesn’t have to stay.

The Mother of a Soldier
is off to greet her son
She takes her place behind the wife
so glad to just have come.

Her days of worry have ended
routine now takes it place.
But nothing could ever compare
to the smile left on her face.

You see, it’s the Mother of the Soldier
who really gives her all
She gave her only son to fight
so our freedom will never fall. 

 

Never Forget
December 2003

The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.

My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.

The sparkling lights in the tree, I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep

In perfect contentment, or so it would seem.
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.
The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.

Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know,
Then the sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.

Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.
A soldier, a sailor, I puzzled, some twenty years old
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.

Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.
"What are you doing?" I asked without fear
"Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!

Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!"
For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts,

To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
Then he sighed and he said "Its really all right,
I'm out here by choice,  I'm here every night.

 "It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.

My Gramps died at 'Pearl on a day in December,"
Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gram always remembers."
My dad stood his watch in the jungles of 'Nam
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.

I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile.
Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red white and blue ... an American flag.

"I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home,
I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat,

I can carry the weight of killing another
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother
who stand at the front against any and all,
to ensure for all time that this flag will not fall."

"So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."

"But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
"Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son."

Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
"Just tell us you love us, and never forget
To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone.
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.

For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust.
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us.

Friends, keep our military people in your prayers. They are risking their lives to protect what we take for granted, and we are losing soldiers every day. They won't be home with their families this Christmas. I pray God will bless them, and keep them safe.

 

Final Inspection
 by Joshua Helterbran
 May 2005

The soldier stood and faced God
which must always come to pass.
He hoped his shoes were shining
just as brightly as his brass. 

"Step forward now, young soldier
how shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To My Church have you been true?"
 
The soldier squared his shoulders and said,
"No, Lord, I guess I ain't.
Because those of us who carry guns
can’t always be a saint. 

I've had to work most Sundays
and at times my talk was tough.
And sometimes I've been violent
because the world is awfully rough. 

But, I never took a penny
that wasn't mine to keep...
Though I worked a lot of overtime
when the bills got just too steep.
 
And I never passed a cry for help
though at times I shook with fear.
And sometimes, God, forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears.
 
I know I don't deserve a place
among the people here.
They never wanted me around
except to calm their fears.
 
If you've a place for me here, Lord,
It needn't be so grand.
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don't, I'll understand." 

There was a silence all around the throne
where the saints had often trod.
As the soldier waited quietly
for the judgment of his God.
 
"Step forward now, young soldier,
You've borne your burdens well.
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in Hell."

 

To Serve America

To serve my country, what little cost
To give a year is nothing lost
Surly I could never attempt to return
A heritage to great for me to earn 

There’s more reason than ever before
To serve this nation that I love and adore
Than all of the soldiers who died in the past
And gave us the freedom I hope will last 

The many wars this country has suffered through
Is what made this country strong and true
Building a legend that will never die
And tells the world of a standard risen high 

The privilege of serving the land of the free
Is all the more an honor to me
As one of the most equipped militants on earth
I defend a nation of great value and worth 

One nation under God is what we inscribe
If only that’s were we still abide
Our moral values will continue to stand
If that is what we sincerely demand 

Never is there a time to relax
When sin and evil continue their attacks
We still have our American right
To continue in the Christian fight 

Let the ears of the world continually ring
With the promise of freedom that we boldly sing
United we stand divided we fall
This is our victorious call 

 -Scott  July 19 2004 

Being in Afghanistan hasn't been a trial for me. Each day I am overwhelmed and ashamed at how easy we have it. We are spoiled with everything one could ask for in an environment like this. Though this is true you can easily hear much complaining from fellow soldiers, but I look around and can't help being humiliated by the blessings and luxuries. I wanted to express my gratitude in a poem. Thus ‘To serve America’ was written.

 
Here's another attempt at sending this; I hope this is a worthy tribute. When I wrote it while working the graveyard shift a few years back, I meant it to honor of those who are willing to go and lay everything on the line. This is to Americans, past and present who've sacrificed life, limb and opportunity so America can be free. If you find this acceptable, please feel free to use it in Ode to the Road or the Veterans' Tribute section. Thanks.  
 
'The Fighting American on Freedom's Battlefield'
Daniel P. Ward
for Memorial Day 2001 copyright 2003
 
They're not players on a field of sport nor actors on a stage,
for real is the dying, the bloodshed and the rage.
They didn't come here hoping to carry away the spoils,
the fruit of others' labor or the evidence of their toils.
And it isn't vanity or hatred for the color of enemies' skin,
but belligerence toward Tyranny, that fires One from within.
Once, for the cause of Freedom--keeping Slavery at bay,
opposed in battle, were cousins and brothers,
but their children are friends, today.
Whether native-born, of a lineage from past centuries,
or newly-arrived from the shores of Oppression, seeking to be free;
for this Republic, unique among nations established upon the Earth,
they'll defend with their lives, our God-given rights--which honor individual worth.
Talk of Freedom isn't idle, nor does to speak of it come cheap...
the Ones who've paid, their bodies are laid below the Sod and beneath the Deep.
I pray we do not lose the sense or knowledge of its cost;
this Last Place to Stand on Liberty's Land...
a hell of a pity, if to us She were lost.
 
'That We May Not Forget'
By Linda Montgomery

They came home tired and wounded;
Some didn’t come at all;
So many of them gave their lives
So their homeland wouldn’t fall.

They came from every walk of life
To defend their native land;
They left their homes to fight a war
They didn’t understand.

A blacksmith left a burning forge,
His tongs still in his hand;
A young boy saddled up his horse
And rode away a man.

A farmer left a field unplowed,
His crops to wilt and die;
He held his loved ones close to him
And said his last goodbye.

From the darkness of the trenches,
As they fought back desperate cries,
They still could see their families
With teardrops in their eyes.

In far away and lonely lands
They did the best they could;
And the freedom we enjoy today
Was paid for with their blood.

Our gratitude for sacrifice
Will never dim nor fade;
And the debt to those who died for us
Can never be repaid.

As we pause now to remember
Just how much each one gave,
Honor, Love, and Freedom
Still echo from the grave.

Let each of us, as we reminisce,
Whisper a silent prayer
To thank God for America
And the freedom that we share.

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