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Sandy Hook Call to Love by Michael R. Burch Our hearts are broken today for our children's small bodies lie broken; let us gather them up, as we may, that the truth of our Love may be spoken; then, when we have put them away to nevermore dream, or be woken, let us think of the living, and pray for true Love, not some miserable token, to command us, for strength to obey. The first line in the poem above came from President Obama’s speech in which he wiped away tears as he discussed the Sandy Hook killings. ### For a Sandy Hook Child, with Butterflies by Michael R. Burch Where does the butterfly go when lightning rails, when thunder howls, when hailstones scream while winter scowls and nights compound dark frosts with snow? Where does the butterfly go? Where does the rose hide its bloom when night descends oblique and chill beyond the capacity of moonlight to fill? When the only relief's a banked fire's glow, where does the butterfly go? And where shall the spirit flee when life is harsh, too harsh to face, and hope is lost without a trace? Oh, when the light of life runs low, where does the butterfly go? ### Sandy Hook Call to Action by Michael R. Burch We see their tiny coffins and our hearts break, so we ask the NRA? "Did you make a mistake?" And we vow to save the next child for sweet love's sake, but also to protect ourselves from enduring such heartache. ### I dedicate my poems to the victims ? may they rest in peace ? and I urge all Americans to act now, before the next massacre. If we don't, our loved ones will remain continually at risk: Epitaph for a Sandy Hook Child by Michael R. Burch I lived as best I could, and then I died. Be careful where you step: the grave is wide. ### This poem is for mothers who lost children at Sandy Hook, and in other similar tragedies ... Childless by Michael R. Burch How can she bear her grief? Mightier than Atlas, she shoulders the weight Of one fallen star. ### Shooting Gallery by Michael R. Burch If we live by the rule of the gun what can a small child do, but run? ### Sixteen of the students who died at Sandy Hook were six years old; the other four students were seven. I wrote the poem below for another child gunned down by a madman. While we cannot legislate sanity, we can be sane enough to legislate away the "right" of serial killers to purchase assault weapons so easily. We can defend many small victims from such carnage, if "we the people" have the wisdom and the will to defend them. Child of 9-11 by Michael R. Burch a poem for Christina-Taylor Green, who was born on September 11, 2001 and died at the age of nine, shot to death ... Child of 9-11, beloved, I bring this lily, lay it down here at your feet, and eiderdown, and all soft things, for your gentle spirit. I bring this psalm ? I hope you hear it. Much love I bring ? I lay it down here by your form, which is not you, but what you left this shell-shocked world to help us learn what we must do to save another child like you. Child of 9-11, I know you are not here, but watch, afar from distant stars, where angels rue the brutal things some mortals do. I also watch; I also rue. And so I make this pledge and vow: though I may weep, I will not rest nor will my pen fail heaven's test till guns and wars and hate are banned from every shore, from every land. Child of 9-11, I grieve your tender life, cut short ... bereaved, what can I do, but pledge my life to saving lives like yours? Belief in your sweet worth has led me here ... I give my all: my pen, this tear, this lily and this eiderdown, and all soft things my heart can bear; I bear them to your final bier, and leave them with my promise, here. ### US or Them? by Michael R. Burch The NRA wants money in the till, thus Adam Lanza had a license to kill. Our government’s the serial killer’s shill and will be, unless WE express OUR will and vote to save our children from Boot Hill. ### This haiku below makes me think of the students and teachers of Sandy Hook, who were trapped in a war zone: War stood at the end of the hall in the long shadows ?original haiku by Watanabe Hakusen, translation by Michael R. Burch ### Piercing the Shell by Michael R. Burch If we strip away all the accouterments of war, perhaps we'll discover what the heart is for. It seems to me that the NRA has declared a war ? an open season ? on our children, by insisting that assault weapons must be available to every Tom, Dick and Dirty Harry. But what will we, the people, say and do? ### Something by Michael R. Burch Something inescapable is lost? lost like a pale vapor curling up into shafts of moonlight, vanishing in a gust of wind toward an expanse of stars immeasurable and void. Something uncapturable is gone? gone with the spent leaves and illuminations of autumn, scattered into a haze with the faint rustle of parched grass and remembrance. Something unforgettable is past? blown from a glimmer into nothingness, or less, and finality has swept into a corner where it lies in dust and cobwebs and silence. ### Frail Envelope of Flesh by Michael R. Burch Frail envelope of flesh, lying cold on the surgeon’s table with anguished eyes like your mother’s eyes and a heartbeat weak, unstable ... Frail crucible of dust, brief flower come to this? your tiny hand in your mother’s hand for a last bewildered kiss ... Brief mayfly of a child, to live six artless years! Now your mother’s lips seal up your lips from the Deluge of her tears ... Keywords/Tags: Sandy Hook, school, violence, war, shooting, shootings, massacre, student, students, teachers, assault weapons, gun control, USA, youth, children

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Sandy Hook Poems 1

Sandy Hook Call to Love by Michael R. Burch Our hearts are broken today for our children's small bodies lie broken; let us gather them up, as we may, that the truth of our Love may be spoken; then, when we have put them away to nevermore dream, or be woken, let us think of the living, and pray for true Love, not some miserable token, to command us, for strength to obey. The first line in the poem above came from President Obama’s speech in which he wiped away tears as he discussed the Sandy Hook killings. ### For a Sandy Hook Child, with Butterflies by Michael R. Burch Where does the butterfly go when lightning rails, when thunder howls, when hailstones scream while winter scowls and nights compound dark frosts with snow? Where does the butterfly go? Where does the rose hide its bloom when night descends oblique and chill beyond the capacity of moonlight to fill? When the only relief's a banked fire's glow, where does the butterfly go? And where shall the spirit flee when life is harsh, too harsh to face, and hope is lost without a trace? Oh, when the light of life runs low, where does the butterfly go? ### Sandy Hook Call to Action by Michael R. Burch We see their tiny coffins and our hearts break, so we ask the NRA? "Did you make a mistake?" And we vow to save the next child for sweet love's sake, but also to protect ourselves from enduring such heartache. ### I dedicate my poems to the victims ? may they rest in peace ? and I urge all Americans to act now, before the next massacre. If we don't, our loved ones will remain continually at risk: Epitaph for a Sandy Hook Child by Michael R. Burch I lived as best I could, and then I died. Be careful where you step: the grave is wide. ### This poem is for mothers who lost children at Sandy Hook, and in other similar tragedies ... Childless by Michael R. Burch How can she bear her grief? Mightier than Atlas, she shoulders the weight Of one fallen star. ### Shooting Gallery by Michael R. Burch If we live by the rule of the gun what can a small child do, but run? ### Sixteen of the students who died at Sandy Hook were six years old; the other four students were seven. I wrote the poem below for another child gunned down by a madman. While we cannot legislate sanity, we can be sane enough to legislate away the "right" of serial killers to purchase assault weapons so easily. We can defend many small victims from such carnage, if "we the people" have the wisdom and the will to defend them. Child of 9-11 by Michael R. Burch a poem for Christina-Taylor Green, who was born on September 11, 2001 and died at the age of nine, shot to death ... Child of 9-11, beloved, I bring this lily, lay it down here at your feet, and eiderdown, and all soft things, for your gentle spirit. I bring this psalm ? I hope you hear it. Much love I bring ? I lay it down here by your form, which is not you, but what you left this shell-shocked world to help us learn what we must do to save another child like you. Child of 9-11, I know you are not here, but watch, afar from distant stars, where angels rue the brutal things some mortals do. I also watch; I also rue. And so I make this pledge and vow: though I may weep, I will not rest nor will my pen fail heaven's test till guns and wars and hate are banned from every shore, from every land. Child of 9-11, I grieve your tender life, cut short ... bereaved, what can I do, but pledge my life to saving lives like yours? Belief in your sweet worth has led me here ... I give my all: my pen, this tear, this lily and this eiderdown, and all soft things my heart can bear; I bear them to your final bier, and leave them with my promise, here. ### US or Them? by Michael R. Burch The NRA wants money in the till, thus Adam Lanza had a license to kill. Our government’s the serial killer’s shill and will be, unless WE express OUR will and vote to save our children from Boot Hill. ### This haiku below makes me think of the students and teachers of Sandy Hook, who were trapped in a war zone: War stood at the end of the hall in the long shadows ?original haiku by Watanabe Hakusen, translation by Michael R. Burch ### Piercing the Shell by Michael R. Burch If we strip away all the accouterments of war, perhaps we'll discover what the heart is for. It seems to me that the NRA has declared a war ? an open season ? on our children, by insisting that assault weapons must be available to every Tom, Dick and Dirty Harry. But what will we, the people, say and do? ### Something by Michael R. Burch Something inescapable is lost? lost like a pale vapor curling up into shafts of moonlight, vanishing in a gust of wind toward an expanse of stars immeasurable and void. Something uncapturable is gone? gone with the spent leaves and illuminations of autumn, scattered into a haze with the faint rustle of parched grass and remembrance. Something unforgettable is past? blown from a glimmer into nothingness, or less, and finality has swept into a corner where it lies in dust and cobwebs and silence. ### Frail Envelope of Flesh by Michael R. Burch Frail envelope of flesh, lying cold on the surgeon’s table with anguished eyes like your mother’s eyes and a heartbeat weak, unstable ... Frail crucible of dust, brief flower come to this? your tiny hand in your mother’s hand for a last bewildered kiss ... Brief mayfly of a child, to live six artless years! Now your mother’s lips seal up your lips from the Deluge of her tears ... Keywords/Tags: Sandy Hook, school, violence, war, shooting, shootings, massacre, student, students, teachers, assault weapons, gun control, USA, youth, children