101st Airborne In broken building’s barricade,
a rest from war’s eternal call,
on foreign soil my feet have trod
to pause me here, beside this wall.
Where great the lives of past have dwelt,
whose thoughts imagined, curious,
to bless mankind with creative hands,
or debate life’s truths in furious
banter and gesture strong,
with passioned art and voice,
and so propel God’s gifts to man
as just and right in human choice.
Today, the battle rages,
with cost to life in wrongs thought right.
Today, by wall in broken hall,
the battle calls to stand and fight,
the fight of freedom, truth and life
that faces a black oppression,
by men who seek to force their will
upon the weak without concession.
Tho’ my life may end here,
away from home and those I love,
my choice, my right, my duty’s here,
to ensure the liberty of those I…
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Atop the knoll where cannons keep
a watch for those here lain,
I cast my eyes ‘cross this expanse
of hills where once stood grain.
In aging testimony,
this hallowed ground is turned bone white,
an endless sea of crosses roll
through oaks and summer’s light.
A gentle whisper calls a tune
in timeless, ageless memories,
thus stirs the oak and ash to grant
a moment’s cooling breeze.
The summer’s heat peaks weariness
across my furrowed brow,
yet begs I cross the distance
to feel the hearts around me, now.
To count the rows and call the names
through every battle fought,
to share the living knowledge gained
these wounded hearts have wrought.
Bone white and worn, fading names,
others only numbered souls
lost to season’s secret,
held here ‘tween the oaks and knolls.
‘Tis sad, this lengthened journey,
when reach the distant rows,
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Once upon a battlefield
I stood where heroes fell,
where brothers, sons and lovers paused
to hear death’s tolling knell.
Once upon an open sea
I sailed where deep remain
the bodies of courageous men
who, by war were sadly slain.
Once upon the azure blue
I drifted through the crimson cloud
where valiant fighters dealt with death
to die alone in sullen shroud.
I’ve felt the moments summoned.
I’ve seen the grave despair.
I’ve witnessed every breath so gained
and every soul laid bare.
I’ve shed a tear not meant for me,
but for the uncaressed
that ne’er again felt warmth of love
before their final rest.
To their souls my prayer,
my honor and my truth,
that they be blessed eternal,
and blessed in memory’s youth!
Beneath the gentle dew of spring, I wait…
Resolved to yearning, lengthening my patience in this state…
Droplets hold their morning spark, all my world reflected here,
as sunbursts gain corona gold, horizon’s azimuth waxing near…
Aaahhh! This rush! Beckoned by returning day,
stands my leaflets, once reposed, called into the sun to play.
Ah! This breath of dawning glory!
Ah! This heart in season’s fold.
Teaching me another story of winter’s whisper aging old…
In stretching bliss, my passion this, one fleeting push through softened soil,
in dew drop’s sparkled smile on me, my heart bursts glad in how I’m spoiled…
photo courtesy public domain
Held at bay through length of day, dismissed by early spring,
yet frost and cold deny there hold beneath sun’s burgeoning.
Splashing leaflets grace her locks poised in grace above the brook,
begging soft the warming soil with every sun beam’s kissing look.
Transfixed in subtle ether’s air, no time, no sense, no questions there…
She sings a psalm’s eternal phrase, caressing whispers through her hair.
Solely reverent angel she, held above the naked oak,
blushing green from what she feels and what the babbling waters spoke…
of ancient incantation, splashed in muse’s spell transpired,
so blessed her sensuous limbs adorned while others dream of hearth and fire.
Dancing in the hushing breeze, swaying arms and rolling hips,
smiling high above the stream, reaching with her fingertips.
Softly humming lullabies, dreaming of her summer’s play,
when long her hands entice the rill, casting rivulets with her sway.
Yet today at season’s cusp, she coyly courts the warming sun,
keeping watch o’er pebbled brook, softly singing to its run.
Showing all her subtle green that daylight’s length might love her so,
she stands to witness winter’s fade, waiting for the ones she knows.
Find me, where lonesome weeping echoes drift across the battlefield.
Find me, beyond the graves of fellows, whose wounds were never healed.
Find me, when only silent hearses search the lea for those who might remain.
Find me, upon the crest of death himself, within the blood there dried and stained.
My thunder echoed loudly, when once decision’s tide was run.
My heart grew cold and cloudy, at first blow lain till last shriek done.
My soul, in fluttered reservation, drew duty from the tangled limbs.
My God, sincere, no hesitation, to drift these men on wings to Him.
Know me, where e’er tension seeks lost men, stemmed from egos large and bold.
Know me, standing frozen in the field, ten steps beyond the forest’s hold.
Know me, waiting, watching, duty bound, to catch your fall, mend your remorse.
Know me, shadowed through the killing ground, hitching hearse to death’s good horse.