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Quatrain Home Poems | Quatrain Poems About Home

These Quatrain Home poems are examples of Quatrain poems about Home. These are the best examples of Quatrain Home poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Jungle War

So thick with rain,the rancid air
into the jungle pours.
Young soldiers with their feet on fire
keep on despite the sores.

This war is one that no one wants
and no one understands.
Young men and women give their lives
in these far Asian lands.

Back home these kids are shown disdain;
they're spit upon and worse.
When they come home from Viet Nam
in airports they are cursed.

A blight upon our history
was this long standing war.
But we should show the vets respect
for suffering they bore.




written by Deb Wilson 
January 12th, 2013
for contest "Historical Modified Quatrain"


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When God Calls Me Home

I would like to spill, What is harbored in my soul. I would like to say, Things that no one really knows. · I’d apologize to you, In a measurement beyond the stars. For not being there with you, Has left my soul this scar. · I’m reminded of the heartache, From that dreadful day. Of an ordinary time, When God took you away. · I would’ve quickly taken, The fate that you have faced. Than to see your children suffer, Savoring sorrows aftertaste. · If I had straps on my shoulders, Attached to an antique plow. You’d see deep ruts in the earth, From the weight I carry now. · I’m harvesting my burdens, In my open fields of pain. In the drought of happiness, Awaiting a smiling rain. · I’ve cultivated memories, From the 3 years you’ve been gone. Laying on glistening blades of grass, That I cried on sorrow’s lawn. · I reminisce on the tears, That only my heart knows. Waiting for bouquets of smiles, From the seeds I just now sowed. · I’m sorry you faced such madness, Without me along your side. And things could have been better, Perhaps you would have survived. · I’m sorry I didn’t call you, To distract your vivid mind. But I replay those what if’s, All the freakin’ time. · No one knows my heartache, Of not biding my goodbye. These are things I’ve harbored, Way down, deep inside. · It feels like you’d still be here, If I’d used my earthly power. I’m sorry for not distracting you, From your darkest hour. · This is a poem I had to write, To regain my inner control. And release my encumbers, To unburden my soul. · You will always be my best friend, A notion I’ll never condone. You know I’ll await your answer, When God calls me home. _________________________ For Christie and Sharon's "I'm Sorry" Contest


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Eternal Everlasting Joy

Sometimes, I think about my life
And the prices I have paid
All the places I have been
The choices I have made

Seems somewhere along the path
I stumbled upon a stone
At that moment I realized
I’d forgotten my way home

My home became a prison cell
My memory was forgotten
My soul was like an egg
An egg that had gone rotten

Sorry I had to go away
You didn’t deserve my shame
I moved very far away
No connection to my name

My life has always been a lie
One I kept hidden from you
When you thought I was in college
Serving time up in the zoo

On the day I was released
You thought I graduated
The moment you were most proud
Another lie to be hated

I have learned it’s never to late
I believe those words are true
Grandma I’m on a mission
I will graduate for you

I really want to earn the pride
You gave me so long ago
I think it will bring some peace
Releasing guilt up in my soul


I’ve learned in the game of life
We must earn our pride
Even if the people are gone
Resting on the other side

I’ve learned in the game of life
Even though they may be hard
Choices aren’t like rolling dice
They're not like flipping cards

Choices define who we are
I know these words are true
Every choice I know make
Are bringing me back home to you

Grandma, I know where heaven is
It’s right here inside my heart
Inside of mine your memory
Until death will never part

During the time I have left
I vow to always let it show
All the seeds you sowed in me
I shall nourish as they grow

In the end I’ll sit with you
Just like when I was a boy
We’ll sing and praise Jesus’ name
With eternal everlasting joy




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The Vietnam War

The pro-Hanoi Vietcong many years ago
In the 1950's Diem's government they'd overthrow
All opposition was crushed killed or jailed
These elected ones to their people they failed

This Buddhist country so religious in belief
Now politically torn apart, impending future grief
In the early 1960's with the CIA in place
Discussing with Vietnam's generals, Diem, assassinated in disgrace

With the Vietcong army, growing from strength to strength
Another communist foothold, going to any lengths
In 1965, with 3500 U.S. Marines in place
By December of that year, 200,000 in many a base

These U.S. Marines, in their defensive mode
Over the coming months, peace would soon erode
With the Tet Offensive upon us, and the "Battle of Hue"
The Americans were now involved, this bloody war now brews

One decision to end this conflict, came in 1969
Nixon sent 18 B-52s, bordering Soviet airspace line
He wanted to show he was capable, to end this bloody war
But as the months and years progressed, the body count would soar

The anti-war movement was gathering strength, also in 1969
But the "Green Beret Affair" started to undermine
A U.S. Army platoon raped and pillaged, the village of My Lai
Where civilians were massacred, and many left to die

In 1970-71, Cambodia incurred wars wrath
Where they and the country Laos, were in the U.S. bombing path
Also in 71, there was the cutting of the Ho Chi Minh trail
But arms and supplies got through, this mission to no avail

Later in the same year, the Anzac's withdrew their soldiers
The U.S. also reduced, many of theirs from Vietnam's borders
In 1973, Nixon declared the suspension of offensive action
The Paris Peace Accords took place, peace with this warring faction

Between the years 73 - 74 under Trà, the Vietcong grew in strength
There was no mass offensive, to lure the Americans to their trench
Gradually they marched to their target, to see their enemies eyes
To their city of Saigon, now over a million humans have died

The average age of the American to die in this bloody war
Was just nineteen years old, never knowing what they were fighting for
So many came home from this horror, leaving themselves behind
Because so many came home different, home with a different mind

Even to this day, many Americans look back and ask
Why their elected Congress, feed them to these tasks
The sad thing about Vietnam, it continues to this present day
Where governments make decisions, asking guns to hear their say




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Average Age 19

Once again, the powers that must
In rise again in what we trust
An overseas conflict, another war
Just what in the hell are we fighting for

Families are asking, Korea has just passed
Generations again reft, how long will it last
A country in need, to rebuild again
Flags at half mast, in wind and rain strain

Once again into war, sent by the Washington Post
To send back reports to hit home the most
Military observers were the first to be sent in
Another chapter of man entering existing sin

I'm witnessing our ariel power, Lam Son 719
US planners determine their incursion, saying all will be fine
Along the Mekong River, we'll carpet bomb their supply trail
Tons of munitions and napalm, this spread surely cannot fail

Many sorties are being flown, for the wounded and the dead
Whilst Nixon and his cronies, aren't thinking with their heads
The news of losses has reached me, nineteen have been killed
Eleven missing, fifty nine wounded, more American blood spilled

Seven fixed wing aircraft, more sons in action loss
Whilst back at home more protests, fading the dyeing's gloss
To to this job that I do, I was never prepared for this
To witness such bloody scenes, and ignore that life is bliss

How can I write about a soldier, whose name I'll never know
Killed at nineteen years old, his family he'll never see grow
Or even explain to his parents, when carried from the AH-1
His body bullet riddled and limp, when lifted it bloodily run

I never went back to the theatre, called the Vietnam War
Having witnessed the wanton killing, what were we fighting for
This colonial conflict that started, us on the side of France
So many came back as strangers, many to live in trance





James Fraser's entry into the contest " WORLD OF WAR: VIETNAM "



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Welcomed Home

Today in Heaven a celebration
One of God's children has been welcomed home
Alex arrived at the gates of Heaven
Thankfully he didn't travel alone

Jesus lifted him from his brokeness
What was temporary has slipped away
A body of Glory gifted to him
With renewed strength he can start his first day

With a smile on his face and youthful strength
Alex knows God's promises are true
His days on the Earth have come to an end
Alex did all he needed to do

Special ones lost, who went before him
Are all gathered to welcome him home
All of his tears have been wiped away
He knows he will never be alone

Although on earth we are sad today
Alex looks down on us with a smile
He does not wish, for us to be sad
We'll be reunited with him in a while


Dedicated to our Brother in Christ
who has been welcomed home.








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God called Nathan Home

On January 5th 1992,
  God whispered in Nathan’s ear.
Oh, it seems like yesterday,
  But it’s been seventeen years.

God came into the hospital,
  And clutched him to Thy chest.
To accompany his little soul,
  Onto his heavenly quest.

Before he parted earth,
  And left for the above.
He felt his father’s warmth,
  And heard his mother’s love.

And after all this sadness,
  A place in heaven is our reward.
For Nathan is safe and sound,
  Up with the Lord of Lords.

Though he left you as an infant,
  Up in heaven he has grown.
For today’s the anniversary,
  That God called Nathan home.




______________________________
This is for Gary and Elizabeth Reese,
I have written you a poem from my 
Heart to yours, may God bless you 
and Happy New Year...Raul


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Charity Begins At Home

CHARITY Is the most honourable of all good intentions To help those poor souls in need We all have so much for which to be thankful Our mission is to do a good deed BEGINS The task of seeking the underprivileged Those truly in need of assistance Doing our very best to make sure they enjoy A happier and productive existence AT Very first news of someone in distress Be there to offer your hand Making sure things are contented at home Then offer to help your fellow man HOME Is definitely where charity should begin On that we must be consistent Then share the warmth of our loving heart And our happy and peaceful existence ©Jack Ellison 2012


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The Road Home

On the way to Parkview hospital,
while driving along the Pacific rim,
under a thick blanket of fog,
our car pushed hard against a northeast wind

A winding road through muddy hills
The highway strewn with mud and soggy leaves
from patches of leaning eucalyptus
Wild scatterings of tall and ancient trees

Around each curve a reddish glare of headlights,
forked, and slashed their garish designs 
upon your father's anxious face,
I took deep breaths and counted time

Lights accentuated the grimace of his angst
He kept silent, in such firm distraction,
and curiously  seeing his face light up in the dark,
eased the grimace of my own contractions

Silhouettes of signs and trees
flashing by in lightning's fury
Windshield wipers keeping rhythm
indicating "hurry!....hurry!"
 
Our new found light showed us where to turn
and soon we curved around the bay,
the winding road led where we learned
young confidence... can show  the way

You found your way into our arms
to a place that owned our hearts
You wrapped us with a cord of charms
and changed to light, a night so dark

When morning came to take you home
The sun broke through across the land
And new adventures waited then
A brand new winding road began




_____________________________________________________
For Kelly Deschler's  Contest: "Just Down The Road"


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Alabama Twister April 27, 2011

Black clouds bury the blue skies of Bama overhead
as monstrous winds wipe out towns of southern plain.
From historic antebellum it left a path of dead
in the midst of hail and drenching down-pouring rain.

Ten hours of terror that held the sweet south in its grip
not yielding to warnings since wind motion was quick.
Leveled houses and buildings with just one long dip
leaving nothing to relish of mementos or red brick.

Toys and papers scattered with the dying whirl twist
sending debris to nearby states in massive claws.
Disaster covers barren- lifeless- ground in hail and mist
while residents view destruction that harshly gnaws. 

Blind darkness filled the night after the storms once seized
bleak clouds clung, still forbidding stars or moon to shine.
Lives spared but tattered beings were left quite uneased
and not rightly sure where tired bodies could now resign.

Despair fills many counties hit by a ravenous wind
that changed a million lives in a fleeted moment.
Winds of majesty can transform, bringing life to an end
along with frazzled minds and souls in much discontent.

Although lives have been altered and turned inside out
friendship and well wishes are given in great abundance.
It will take patience to rebuild quaint rural towns, no doubt
with God’s and friends help, we still have a fighting chance.

“Sweet Home Alabama, you’re home sweet home to me”!

Copyright © 2011  By Caryl S. Muzzey


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Never Erased

Eternal faith;
Love in His name.
Saved by grace;
Never erased.


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Choices To Face

I have some choices to face,
But these are not my decisions to make.
God told me what He wants me to do;
He said, "Listen, Son, I have a plan for you."


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Enjoy This Place

Follow your dreams and follow your heart;
God has shown you the path to start.
Never give up and always have faith;
Do what you love and enjoy this place!


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Decisions

Lord, I do not know what to do;
Please, lead me by Your side.
Decisions I'm facing are lost and through;
Please, lead me to do what's right.


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A Comforting Thing

I’d left old Kentucky for a while to roam, but now the roads call me, and I’m coming home. Just me and my pickup - we’re now headed to a chilled winter woodland, the cottage, and you. Those back roads keep calling. Old houses with gates I’m now driving past to where my darling waits. I see in the distance a comforting thing. Smoke drifts from your chimney as wind starts to sing. A down home cooked supper awaits me tonight then all-night sweet lovin’ near the warm firelight. Written by Andrea Dietrich on 10/12/13 in the genre of country music for the Groove It! Poetry contest of nette onclaud


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Home Is Where My Heart Is

<3  ~  <3  ~  <3  ~  <3  ~  <3  ~  

Our houses may be far apart,

But, our love will never be.

We are always close in heart,

My home ~ my mother and me.

<3  ~  <3  ~  <3  ~  <3  ~  <3  ~
  
5/8/11
Happy Mother's Day, Mom!
I love you!


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Tranquil World

A house sits near a calm inspiring pond A peacefulness exists outside the home As I walk I can see the white shutters There’s beauty that I love as I go roam There is smoke coming out of the chimney The door, open, allowing people in The trees sure have the budding of green leaves This is a tranquil world that does begin The path carries me beyond this grand sight I no longer see the lovely home there The smoke is seen just over the large trees The lake is gone, but there's joy in the air Still there’s an aura of the calm and peace I feel it there in my heart with each step This sight will always stay deep within me I feel the heart and love with each footstep Russell Sivey


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Safe

It's like a weight lifted off of my heart;
I am no longer torn apart.
Thank God you are safe;
Everything is okay.


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SPIT

I went to war in Vietnam which wasn't my idea
the army never asked for my advice
I slogged on through the jungles there and watched some soldiers die
out country where the farmers grow their rice

The months went by like in a horrid dream of blood and death
and nothing I could say made any change
one mission here. one mission there just made no sense to me
but there was no way it would rearrange

We came to do our duty and to save South Vietnam
from communist incursions from the north
The tunnel rats went into where no one should ever go
And daily, squads were sweeping back and forth

The enemy was everywhere so telling friend from foe
was just about the hardest thing to do
then just about the time you may have thought you had it pegged
some little "friend" would make a fool of you

I finally got home last month, free from an ugly war
but landing at the airport gave me pause
a woman with a little kid called me a nasty name
and spit at me without a hint of cause

This war I did not advocate and never wished to go
I never had a choice in going there
I only wish the people at my home would understand
and put the blame on those who sent us there

I simply cannot understand the hatred aimed at me
for doing what I really thought was right
it seems that people aught to see the reasons why we go
and know that it's our duty makes us fight


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Mirror In My Pocket

~Mirror in my pocket~
Many years ago my Nana gave to me
A little pocket mirror, and she told me I would see
“See what Nan” I asked looking deep into the smokey glass
“You will see yourself” she smiled, and called me her "lovely lass"

It is a mirror so what did she mean, yet my Nan was very wise
And looking into the mirror, I didn’t recognise my eyes
Is this a trick I asked my Nan, while looking deep into the glass?
No trick lass, just a mirror but take heed of what comes to pass.

I slipped it in my pocket, thanked her and said goodbye
On the journey home I looked into the mirror, and it made me cry
Deep into the smokey glass I peered, but nothing I could see
No reflection of myself and I wondered how that could be.

 A woman then looked out of the glass, tears pooled in the saddened eyes
A face that was not my own, it was my Nan to my great surprise
She smiled and disappeared, my own reflection replaced hers there
Shocked and surprised, I replaced the mirror, with tender care.

I reached my home sixty miles away and lifted out the glass
A woman that resembled me smiled, and I wondered what had come to pass
Weeks did pass my mirror became a treasure never left behind
Because when I looked into it, it was of my Nan it did remind.
 
Then the day, I saw the mirror so grey and full of gloom
I peered into it knowing there was some impending doom
My Nans face appeared, and with tears she mouthed goodbye
That was the day she died, and the day the mirror cried.

The mirror, I keep close, as she did,it means so much to me
I will pass it onto my son when I think he needs to see
To the woman i loved and miss, my reflection changed slow-ly
It’s now the same one looking out, as when my Nan gave the mirror to me.

Time has passed the years have gone, my mirror is smokey grey
I’ll pass it on to my son so he can be ready for the day.
I took heed of the mirror over the years and what comes to pass
I saw that we all grow old and my Nan showed me, with a looking glass.
©1/10/2012 ~GG~




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Ghost

I can hear you,
I know you're there,
You can hear me too,
In this home we share.

Are you someone I knew,
Someone from the past,
Can it really be true,
When had I seen you last.

Or did you live here,
A long time ago,
You, I do not fear,
This I hope you know.

Did you just pass away,
Like most people do,
Why do you stay,
Was life taken from you.

Was your life so tragic,
That your spirit will remain,
Just like a trick of magic,
Your form you can regain.

You might watch me at night,
But I never have seen you,
Will I recognize the sight,
As a face that I once knew.




Written by: Kelly Deschler

Giorgio V.'s contest - "Impress Me",  themes- spiritual / gothic?


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Home

Oh, the carefree days of youth, 
secure and always close to home.
Aware of all the shades of truth,
in disregard my mind would roam.
 
Then glancing round at precious stuff,
rushing from my home afire.
Knew not the meaning of enough;
acquisition was my heart's desire.
 
Pleasure that dominion brings,
I’d lost the will to see.
I never really owned my things
instead they all owned me.
 
Then parted cloak from unspoiled eyes—
I hadn't known were closed—
a world in its etheric guise—
I saw but never had supposed.
 
Isn’t it a thing of worth,
to orphan all that would benight?
Assuming mantle of rebirth,
to seek unfettered realms of light.
 
I’ve settled somewhat in my years—
midst life’s approaching gloam.
Reaching now to dry my tears—
of joy, you see, I'm going back home.


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A Nature Walk

Stop for a moment, to only admire The wondrous, warm world, where I do reside; These gigantic trees do serve to inspire, Notice the beauty, with nothing to hide. The golden orb shines through neon-clear leaves, From the canopy falls a single drop Of dew that is unstirred by any breeze, landing on my palm with a tiny 'plop'. Next is the meadow, so spacious and fair, Filled with daffodils, and fat buzzing bees. This fantastic scene, tends Nature with care, Yet Home must I go, now back to the trees, For with this family, I must be sure, Found at Home to make a nice, hot breakfast, Since my love for them, is ever so pure, So I bid farewell, as I'm Home at last.


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No more scold he is home

Days we had as one even though I scold
you smiled even through those days
now your father called you to hold
tears flow as my days to scold ends







2-1-14
For Dr Rams contest
Written by M.B.


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Home Is



Home is where your heart is These words are often used No matter where you travel Whichever path you choose A cheery morning greeting With sleep still in your eyes Scrambled eggs for breakfast Delicious homemade pies A friendly chat with neighbours Reviewing the latest news Tender words of sympathy On days you're feeling blue Nothing's more appealing Than a tasty home cooked meal The squeal of kiddies' laughter The happiness that you feel A comforting hug of sympathy When you're day is going bad The cherished words, “I love you” Which take away the sad A home is not so much a place But a reflection of the heart When you're with the one you love Your passion is off the charts © Jack Ellison 2012


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Sextant

The little sextant was diverse
to have position on the Earth.
While going in circles 'round the sun
and seeing all for what it's worth.

It shot through space
and saw the stars.
It passed through Heaven
paired with Mars.

It spun in groups
much like our own.
Through some not quite:
and lesser known.

In time it passed
our way again.
The universe
come home to men.

While those who watched
and wondered why,
would only say
that we're going by.


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Twelve Days Of Christmas

Twelve Days Of Christmas

On the first day of Christmas, I gave this to PD
A unicorn with its one horn all shiny, his face full of glee
On the second day of Christmas the unicorn was gone
She rang me and asked me if I could maybe get another one.

On the third day of Christmas I unplugged my telephone 
I pretended not to be there, she might think I was not home
On the fourth day of Christmas she came knocking on my door
Come on Goldie she shouted, I am sure you must have more.

On the fifth day of Christmas she gave my door bell five long, long rings
But I didn’t answer it as I had no more of the blasted things
On the sixth day of Christmas I was searching hard for more
I had heard there was a unicorn sale on, but it was some old folklore.

On the seventh day of Christmas my luck came in at last
I found another unicorn but at its very best it was past
On the eighth day of Christmas I sent him directly to PD
She was so delighted she decided to ring and thank me.

On the ninth day of Christmas she sent to me a card
She realised I must have been busy, at a task that was very hard.
On the tenth day of Christmas her unicorn left once more
Poor PD was bereft, she was crying on the floor.

So remember if you love a unicorn so much that it makes you cry
You cannot take him home with you he has his own home to which he must fly.
© 20/12/2012 ~GG~


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Waiting for Her to Come Home

Everything around me is still
The soft lights ward off the cold
My worried heart is unsettled
Every minute is making me old

Time seems to drag on and on
Not sure I can take much more
I’m waiting for my angel
To walk in through the door

There is nothing to do but wait
So I wonder about her day
But what’s taking her so long?
Did she somehow lose her way?

I think about my visit
My first time to see her place
In my glimpse into her life,
A touch of tiredness I trace

She flew away to this isle
To try out her angel wings
And in following her dreams
She untied our heart’s strings

“Our children are not our own”
Oh, great Gibran, can’t you see?
My precious 18 year old 
Will always belong to me

Oh yes…she will live elsewhere
Have a family of  her own
But she’s my little baby
In my heart she hasn't grown

I wait and I wait and I wait
Please God, let her be alright
I look out of the window
At the blackness of the night

I think of all those mothers
Who wait for their children dear
Whose arms are tired and aching
To hold their loved ones near 

My heart shares their sorrow
My soul weeps for their plight
For though my daughter is late
I know she’s coming home tonight!

Eileen Manassian Ghali


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Home In Peace

I gave the poor a nickel
who spent it on some shoes.
Then those who owned the store
had money for their dues.

The store was just a new one
and had to pay it's lease.
And I the plaza owner
took the nickel home in peace.


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No Place Like Home

I struggled, got her words just right
as I revised for half a night.
Onto the battlefield she rode
my glorious soldier named Ode.

Her rival said - "she's much too long!"
another nagged - "..setting's all wrong."
Broken and bruised my warrior stayed
doing her job, somewhat dismayed.

Hours before the contest was done
came this brassy note, only one.
"As I read,  your piece was just fine
You just skipped ev'ry other line."

Front lines were chosen, mine were not.
My Ode retreated, proud to have fought.
Humbled, she found the road back home;
the battlefield is no place to roam.


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