| In Flander's Field In Flander's Field the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row That mark our place; and in the sky The larks still bravely singing fly Scarce heard amid the guns below We are the dead. Short days ago we lived, felt dawn, saw sunsets glow, Loved and were loved, and now we lie In Flander's Field Take up our quarrel with the foe: To you from failing hands we throw The torch; be yours to hold it high. If ye break faith with us who die We shall not sleep, though poppies grow In Flander's Field. ~Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD [1872 - 1918] Canadian Army |
| Patriotic Poems |
| The Final Inspection 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, you sldier, 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 whose of us who carry guns, Can't always be the 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 alot of overtime, When the bills got just to steep. And I've never passed a cry for help, Though at times I shook with fear. And sometimes, God, Forgive me, I've wept unmanly tears. I knowI don't deserve a place, Among the spirits 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've never expected or had too much, so if you don't I'll understand. There was a silence all around the throne, Where the Saints so often trod. As the soldier waited quietly, For the judgement of his God. "Step forward now, you soldier, You've borne your burdens well. Walk in Peace on Heaven's streets, You've served your time in Hell." ~Unknown Author~ If you know the source of this peom, please contact the website manager. Use the link at the bottom of this page . |
| Freedom Isn't Free I watched the flag pass by one day, It fluttered in the breeze, A young Marine saluted it, And then he stood at ease. I looked at him in uniform, So young, so tall, so proud, With hair cut squar and eyes alert He'd stand out in any crowd. I thought how many men like him, Have fallen through the years? How many died on foreign soil? How many mothers have shed their tears.? How many pilots planes have been shot down? How many have died at sea? How many foxholes have become a soldiers' grave? No...Freedom isn't Free. I heard the sound of Taps one night, When everything was still, I listened to the bugler play, and felt a sudden chill. I wondered just how many times, That Taps had meant "Amen," When a flag had draped the coffin, of a Brother or a Friend. I thought of all the Children, Of the Mothers and the Wives, Of the Fathers, Sons and Husbands, With interrupted lives. I thought about a graveyard, At the bottom of the sea, Of unmarked graves at Arlington, No...Freedom isn't Free. ~Unknown Author~ If you know the source of this peom, please contact the website manager. Use the link at the bottom of this page . |
| Sailor Rest Your Oars When your final dive is made, and your battery's running low, You'll know there lies a boat many fathoms down below, With your dive planes jammed on full on your depth gage needle bent, Your hydraulics are now dry of oil and your air banks are all spent. It's then yo get to wondering, "is my life's boat rigged for dive?" Your guessing drill commences,"am I dead or still alive?" You pace the flooded decks with scorn and curse the flawsof man, Into the realms of Rex you've stepped and here you'll make your stand. To live your life, as sailormust, at the bottom of the sea, There's one you'll have to reckon with...that one, my friend. is thee. Will yourconscience do you justice, whenthe final musters in? Did you lead the kind of life you should, in the ports to which you've been? The answers to these questions and so very many more, Are locked in the hearts of sailing men From Cannes to Singapore. So when your day for Mast rolls round, the choice is up to you. So sailor, chart your life's course now, But chart it straight and true. Now's the time to floodyour tanks, and trim up fore and aft, It's far to late when the klaxton sounds To square away your craft. Your final billet lies below, Deep on the ocean's floor. Prepare yourself...the last word has now been passed, It is your time...Sailor, Rest Your Oar! ~Unknown Author~ If you know the source of this peom, please contact the website manager. Use the link at the bottom of this page . |