His daddy is fighting in Iraq.
His mommy is fighting tears.
His brother is fighting death.
He is fighting his desolation and fears.
Friends are but a dream
and companions are an illusion.
School is a concentration camp,
but he stands, though alone, in the midst of confusion.
His training school is loneliness.
His milestones are fears, thrust in lies.
His only weapon is faith
and his bullets are soft "hallelujah" cries.
Strength left his fragile body
and he lost the fight in life so coy,
yet on his knees he conquered agony
and I call him the little soldier boy.
Copyright © Robyn Thomas | Year Posted 2013
C-alled as soldier of the Lord,
O-n duty twenty-four-seven;
L-acking not for faith and love,
L-osing not hope for God in heaven.
E-arnest to extol the Almighty,
G-iving top importance to Him;
E-ven though there are trials, he still praises His holy name.
O-ft times he's in spiritual war, conquering the enemy's lair;
F-ocused to win over the evil tricks, exposing false tenets in the air.
E-nemies of faith in resilience,
V-icious lies in threatening stance;
A-rmed though with the sword of truth,
N-ever shall foes go the distance.
G-od's soldier is well-disciplined,
E-xemplary in managing time;
L-etting not the hour be wasted
I-n obeying His will so sublime.
C-all of duty is utmost priority,
A-ccepting no other endeavor;
L-abor in the field of the Lord is his noble task and fervor.
M-an of highest integrity,
I-ncorruptible in words and in mind;
N-o deed done in dishonesty,
I-n morality he's so inclined.
S-oldier of the Lord is firm,
T-hinking not of material things;
R-emaining to be brave and loyal,
Y-earning to gain eternal blessings.
Copyright © Bernard F. Asuncion | Year Posted 2016
I do not know?
He received the call in the middle of the night,
be to work by sunrise, you'll be taking a flight.
Go to a land where freedom will rise,
men will stand proud and wipe tears from their eyes.
Suicide bombers for a man who controlled,
brutality to the people, dignity he had stole.
The soldier would travel to a far distant land,
where oil was vass and towns made on sand.
He fought for his country, he life sealed with fate,
his family remembers the call on this date.
It was warm in Sepember, he was out on patrol,
explosives were used and would soon take its toll.
He fought the good fight for freedom was sought,
much food and some water, America brought.
But he would come home boxed with a flag draped on top,
violence was something that he tried to stop.
He left earth the hero, he had fought with much pride,
Joined Jesus in heaven, and walked at his side.
Copyright © Kimberly Ghadeer | Year Posted 2006
They were Meriwether Lewis and William Clark,
Her name was Sacagawea.
On an expedition they did embark
Finding the passage to the sea.
Down the Missouri they traveled,
Then slithered 'round the Snake River bend.
Rocky Mountain weather and sickness battled;
At the Columbia River they'd end.
©2013 Honestly JT
Copyright © Honestly J.T. | Year Posted 2013
They are young and their faces are like rosebuds,
and they go where freedom is not sought but totally suppressed,
they may die and yet their words attest what they promised;
see their flag flapping high, rise to salute those lads!
A distraught soldier weeps as he puts down his heavy rifle,
another comforts him by saying," It's a sacrifice done with a cause! "
He attempts to smile, but resumes his crying with a curse;
his buddy responds to that, " We'll be heroes, many we'll tremble! "
" To die this young on foreign soil and have no wife and kids? "
He replies with an unconsolable sob. " I'll be dead and under a big draped flag,
never seeing again my adored land, family and friends...
is this sacrifice worth a life just began and already turned into a dirty rag? "
" I may die before you do, " his camrade says with truthful conviction,
" You will go home and start a family with my blessing
and I will make sure that no harm comes to you! " he murmured trembling;
" Lay down and sleep, I will pray for divine intervention! "
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2014
A soldier’s farewell
A heavenly welcome
For a job well done
Great rejoicing in heaven
But the hearts of mortals are heavy
A hurricane of memories
The pain in our hearts…
…oh the pain!
To serve in the flesh no more
But to be with The Father forever
A soldier’s farewell
A great story to tell
Troubled hearts, “It is well”…do not sorrow
For we will see him in the morrow
Wash away the pain
With thoughts of the gain
Weep not again
Cos’ a soldier never dies
A soldier always lives
Because He lives
By Sylvia Chika
BBM Channel: C002F2845
© 2017 Sylvia Chika
Copyright © Sylvia Chika | Year Posted 2017
Strange or not
Odd and fun.
That’s not all
And still are
Strange and odd.
life is life.
Not is lies.
Truth seeps from
Lies, lies, lies
Move, move, move
Lies are life.
Lies are death.
Lies are homes.
Lies are pain.
Lies are truth.
Truth is life.
Truth is death.
Truth is home.
Truth is pain.
Truth is lie.
Truth is that.
Lies will die.
Lies will cease.
Truth will live.
Truth will be.
Copyright © Layla Elkoulily | Year Posted 2013
As I woke on Xmas morn, all was quite still,
my breath on the window, crystallized in the chill.
With the Soldiers so far away, many did feel,
the distance had made the war seem surreal.
The war they are fighting, I fear may have no end,
the fanatics that feed it, do not understand.
The Human race is meant to be free,
to make choices and have dreams, for others to see.
Their warped sense of values is not in the Qu ran,
Muhammad's (PBUH) teachings are not kill, then run.
He had many wives whom he honored quite freely,
the love he felt for them all was as Thaira (pure), as a lily.
The fight he tried to teach, this war of Jihad,
is the fight of the good, versus the bad.
Is, meant to be fought inside of each man.
Within his head, not in a desert, in a far off land.
My prayer for this Christmas for all to join hands,
No matter the religion, no matter the clans.
May the peace we all want be within our grasp,
may this fight on terror, and within be won at last.
Thank You God, Yahweh, Buddha, Allah, I say this with reverence,
Call Him Jesus or Krishna, whatever your preference.
Copyright © Kathleen McQuillen | Year Posted 2015
The ground was dark and bloody,
My hands held the hammer,
I had only done my job.
But was that right?
He lay upon the wood in agony,
No one cared,
As he was lifted into place
I felt nothing.
I had done my job.
But now I am less sure
as I stand watch.
I can hardly hear the words.
The sky darkens,
The earth shakes,
He has gone.
But I only did my job.
Copyright © Alan Short | Year Posted 2010
We are all the colors a Patriot depicts,
the red’s the blues and whites a mix.
We honor the soldier’s creed till death,
protecting our nation with every breath.
Quitting is not an option you’ll see,
for a soldier’s pride and honor succeeds.
A soldier’s mission will always come first,
hungering for freedom with a thriving thirst.
The American Soldier, our warrior of choice,
will serve their people will a victorious voice.
They are comrades in arms, till the very end,
no one left behind, fellow man they’ll tend.
The American Soldier doesn’t accept defeat,
heroically they’ll fight, in the cold and the heat.
They are the guardians of freedom we forget,
the American Soldier does not identify regret.
Our way of life is because of their strength,
for decades they’ve served at every length.
The American Solder conveys honor and pride;
for fallen soldiers, many tears they have cried.
Honor our troops, for freedom is not free –
it’s the American Soldier whose provided liberty.
Take a moment to praise the dedication and pride,
of the American Soldier that never dies…….
Copyright © Stacy Stiles | Year Posted 2012
one of the world's greatest men was an apostle named Paul
and when he when he wrote this text he was behind prison walls
he had been arrested for preaching God's Holy Word
now Isn't that the craziest thing that you have ever heard
Paul was on death row, his natural life was about to end
so he began writing these words with an anointed pen
one day in his cell, he observed some soldiers going through their motions
so he penned these words about spiritual discipline and spiritual devotion
he wrote to his son Timothy about the realities of Christian warfare
to inform him that in order to walk like Christ you must be bold and be prepared
to live godly in Christ you will suffer some persecution
just stay prayerful for the Holy Spirit will give you spiritual infusion
ONE- to be a good soldier, you must stay strong and endure hard times
to serve in God's army remain focused and stay in line
for It won't be easy to do God's work staying on the right path
just stand tall and persevere in your mission
and remember the love for you Jesus has
TWO- to be a good soldier, you must believe in the cause
for God's Kingdom is at stake, there's no time to stop and pause
THREE- to be a good soldier, you must follow the chain of command
It's not only about you, It's about God's master plan
FOUR- to be a good soldier, you must follow orders and learn to obey
submit your will and soul to God and do whatever He says
FIVE- to be a good soldier, you must always know your place
make sure you're standing in it to receive God's mercy and grace
SIX- to be a good soldier, you must know how to use your weapon right
carry the Sword of the Spirit It's loaded with God's insights
SEVEN- to be a good soldier, stay at your post until you're relieved
for the enemy will try to sneak in, wherever he can plant a seed
on the spiritual battlefield you will the wounded and those in despair
hold to your position for God's angels will always be near
so endure the hard times for there will be plenty more
believe in the cause, that's what you're fighting for
follow the appropriate chain of command
follow orders and put all in God's hands
know your place in the ministry and where you belong
know how to handle your weapons, remain focused and stay strong
and last but not least, never leave your post
until you are properly relieved by the Spirit of The Holy Ghost
Copyright © louise nelson | Year Posted 2007
When the seventeen men neared the end of the bridge only one remained in
sight all the others were lost in the shadow from the moonlight. He was dressed
in tattered cloth; homespun gray, and eaten by the moth of strang decay
“No livery”, He cried “no making strides in death” “my life has ended on this
There is a plaque in place to mark this day it says on
Friday June 13, 1864 PFC Dreardon Age 14 was marking time in a prisoner
exchange at BENTON creek when he was shot by Federal Forces. The miniball
penetrated his left sleeve and took off his arm. He bled to death.
His body was torn and bleeding so forlorn the tatters of his homespun sleeve
stayed hung upon his stump of arm there.
War is something no one cares for Mr. Sherman.
MOFW 1964, June 13 Commerative
The watcher was on the water making footprints on the surface when the Federal
Forces under Sherwood marched into the History. He seldom interferes with
history but makes the markers seem to be the truth. He saw the miniball tear off
the soldiers sleeve the man had been a prisoner just released this crime is not
unpunished the man that pulled the trigger is lying in the river at the Watchers
feet. The Watcher broke his prime directive and almost gleefully erected the
YANKEE soldier in the mud.
A Watcher is no more A Watcher for when he acted he lost his power over water
and he stands upon the battlements no longer but He is tearless in his vigil of
Every Friday on the 13th of the Month of JUNE of every year that has its ending in
a FOUR, he gives a shudder of relief certain that his judgment has not been
The rebel soldier gives a rebel yell and leaves the bridge.
The Yankee minion that has shot him just turns over once and lies back in the
mud. For this is judgment.
The Watcher roars.
Copyright © charles hice | Year Posted 2007
I was silently watching the two Mary’s sigh and cry,
When the earthquake hit and I just wanted to cover,
The ground nearly parted and there was no-one to chi,
I hit the deck for stones from the tomb threw over.
Covering my head with my hands and laying tight up,
I was aware of the two Mary’s moving over speedily,
To the tomb stone to take advantage of the windup,
Which just contributed to the terror weighing heavily.
After six minutes it ceased, and peace did administer,
The two of them were straight at the caster right in there,
But I needed another while to recover from the disaster,
So just sat looking firstly at the grass, then over there.
By the time I got them they’d given the body determinedly,
To the gardener who already had lit it and was fanning it,
So I ran as fast as a chicken away from a fox very quickly,
Up the mountain to get my head straight to think about it.
I worked it out that I had to talk with the two Mary’s,
Because I also appreciated what Jesus did when alive,
Since he had cured my cousin from quadriplegic paralysis,
Such that this cousin’s possibility was now to thrive.
So I did decide to accept Mary’s plans of ingenuity,
For the continuation of her son’s work with the poor,
Which would change medical services directivity,
From the rich monopoly over to with anyone to moor.
The two woman’s plans would ignite a movement,
Start a Society, organisation or group to proclaim,
That the way to live was through love’s enrichment,
Not by class prized, but by living everyday in His name.
So we talked, and the two women promised me silence,
About my failure to keep the stone which sealed the tomb,
If I kept silence about them having a stealing licence,
And about their real physical action of removing the womb.
So that was how the resurrection myth took off, started,
That was how it began, it did come from two parties,
From the Roman soldier representing the state above,
And from Jesus’ kin representing the people’s armies.
I don’t think Christianity would’ve occurred without,
The soldier man Roman guard of the tomb believing,
In Jesus plight and in the right of a movement, shout,
About Jesus, through the religion of Christianity aging.
Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2016
Heart pounding in her chest
Young mother, in panicky haste
Stirring sleepy children, jumps off her bed
Praying fervently, in night's dead.
Photo, his smiling face
Her pulses race,
Senses of brave soldier,
Dreams of children, doting father,
Pines for lovely wife, on icy glacier.
Shielded by the blessing showers
Foe, he overpowers
SOUND OF EMOTION CONTEST
Sponsored by: Nette Onclaud
Copyright © Yesha Shah | Year Posted 2012
AN EXCEEDING GREAT ARMY
Because of the missing sword
A soldier falls,
When was their birth?
What hastens their death?
Christ paid the debt
He fought with that sword
Till all forces bow…
But for this missing sword
A soldier crumbles,
They are well dressed:
In military attire
But are armed with brass weapons:
With spears and rifles!
Where is the amour, the shield,
the breastplate, the helmet and the sword?
Yet, for the want of that sword
A soldier falters,
On mountain tops,
Hills and valleys:
Day and night;
Toiling, preparing and waiting
To combat the enemy,
But never search for the missing weapon.
Still, for the want of that sword
A soldier dies,
Their camp is ravaged
Each soldier for his dear life;
The night of horror came
The dawn of victory followed
Each soldier remembers the missing weapon
From their hidey-hole, loudly they scream,
“The sword! The sword!! The sword!!!”
Will the sword ever be found?
No army is declared the Champion
Without going through a battle;
No victory is secured
With the parade of cheap weapons;
Then a soldier returns
And... the SWORD was found
Removed from its sheath; and sharpened
To fight the good fight
And take their rightful place
Then a soldier fights,
Now... the SWORD was found
The army of God has risen
With bleeding skin
And broken bones.
Like the dried bones, they are awake:
Covered with the sinews of faith,
And filled with the breath of fire
To thresh mountains
And dominate their enemies.
Then a soldier lives,
The camp is restored
The enemy is destroyed
An exceeding great army has risen
To root out and to pull down
To destroy and to throw down
To build and to plant…
Then a soldier rejoices,
Copyright © Ajayi Angel-Simon | Year Posted 2012
THIS is my Reality, There are many like it, but this one is
My Perceptions of it are my best friends and "enemies",
For this is my illusion...
... I must master the balance of my emotions,
My reality, without yours is useless, For lack of mine, yours
Thus inspiring coexistence,
I must evolve my reality anew,
I must shoot straighter than anyone whom conspires
I must bless ye, lest ye confuse me,
My allies and I realize that what counts on the subliminal
Are not the rounds fired or the smoke they create,
We understand that it is the hits that count.
We WILL win this war…
My reality is of my own design, JUST as I, therein is MY
Thus, I shall fear no “evil” along the path in the valley of
I understand its’ weaknesses, it’s strengths, its strategies,
its sights and its intentions.
I will evolve my reality clean and ready, as I am clean and
Before God I swear this creed...
My perceptions of self are the defenders of my reality,
We are the masters of thine "enemy", We are the saviors
So be it, until the illusive veil of existence is drawn back
and thine "enemies" subside.
Courage to change the things I can
~Zachary Allen Jackson~
Copyright © Zachary Jackson | Year Posted 2012
Let me tell you a true story.
Hopefully to show God’s power and His glory.
Two army buddies, friends that went A.W.O.L.
Absent without leave a military crime, a foul.
Two young men scared in Saigon, not more than eighteen.
Came over together from Oakland meeting, both young and green.
Naïve they were and pretty scared too.
Made a deal on the plane, “You cover me, I’ll cover you.”
Madness, chaos, helicopters flying around in the air.
Daytime, night time, the rumbling and thumps where constantly there.
The outside perimeter, with Saigon close by they kept vigil, they protected.
Turns out the two soldiers, disillusioned with the killings became dejected.
So tired of the killings, bombings they met a bar owner and stayed with him.
Each night you had to be in at 7:00 the curfew set in.
MP’s Vietnamese and Americans patrolled the streets for movement, watching within.
So the bar locked up good and tight you were their for night, till the dawns light set in.
Two soldiers In a Hotel-Bar- Brothel, and a vicious civil war.
Knowing when returning to base they would have some emotional scars.
One night late two weeks from camp the soldiers awoke to a flash shattered glass a rocket had hit the hutch next door.
Two soldiers hearing the cries and screams of woman and children, the innocents the poor.
Screams, cries desperate and whimpering could be heard inside the hut.
Let’s face it they were in the worse way bleeding and cut.
The five trapped had a soldier that didn’t care if he was AWOL; all he cared about was getting them out of the fire.
The soldier went in an out three times and he didn’t tire.
Looking back at the incident the other soldier aided the burnt and suffering as help arrived.
Without them these people never had a chance, they were caught off base, yes. But they were blessed and these people survived.
They for sure have the love and appreciation of the people they saved that day.
So in that moment that time they didn’t care of the race of these people they were humans and it didn’t matter to the two soldiers no way.
What happened to them? They were given a court martial an undesirable discharge, sent home.
What would you have done if you were the one?
Not even twenty finished with the war, the greatest lesson here is if they weren’t at that hotel, they wouldn’t have ever discovered that all are human.
In the midst of all the chaos, killing, mayhem, gave these two soldiers the love knowing that innocents needed help and they did for their fellow man
Copyright © Robert Ball | Year Posted 2012
I do not know?
This soldier believes our country is worth fighting for
So after September 11th,
He joined the Marine Core
He left behind his wife and two kids
Knowing that he couldn’t leave his wife
Without giving her one last kiss.
The lonely soldier, fought hard and true,
But when he called her that night,
He found that there was something in her voice that was new.
This lonely soldier
Couldn’t believe what he heard,
He realized that she was gone, that he’ll never be able to hold her.
They say war takes Courage and Pride,
But there is a greater war that takes place, greater than a war between any two
The War is Love, and Love can take you on one hell of a ride.
This ride can take you up; it can bring you to the greatest time of your life
But this ride can also go down,
Making you want to just leave, make you want to grab a knife.
So for all of us lonely soldiers out there,
Before you get on this crazy ride known as love,
Make sure that you leave her with a kiss, tell her you’ll always be by her.
And say you’ll miss her like the morning sun.
Copyright © Matthew Grund | Year Posted 2005
who can tell a person is wrong or right?
day-to-day each one is a hired soldier..
fighting in their own battlefield..
not to kill a criminal or a terrorist..
rather a person striving for better life..
who can definitely say one's reason for living?
allow me to say that each one is struggling so..
one reason maybe is to earn a living..
one reason maybe is to gain power..
or this maybe one reason to share God's love...
who can tell hundred percent that such person can do harm?
isn't it, only by giving into chances that you can know one person..?
isn't it, through God's eyes we are all equal despite who we are here on earth..?
isn't it , through genuine acceptance that divisions and differences are broken?
isn't it reaching out is fine but alright?
sad to say that persons judge without knowing..
sad to say persons can conclude without even investigating..
sad to say, persons who are educated will look at others just by their race..
sad to say, persons outcast and demeans another person because of looks..
hired soldiers we maybe everyday..
true to say, we must on guard to others..
we must be vigilant to stay protected..
we must use all resources in us to keep living..
however, must we be hired soldiers to condemn and persecute innocence?
Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo - Fraser | Year Posted 2013
Flotilla's over the sea
Soldiers are getting ready
to protect the feet on which they trod.
to shield the mother who gave them more than a lot.
their heads may bleed in agony
but they will fight and sacrifice for their country.
Never afraid to be aflame.
Never bow their heads in shame.
They will flourish , they will be cherished.
Never give up and stop
because they are always on the top.
always a step ahead , always the best.
always ready for a kamikaze attack.
his strength will act like a mask to his country
he will sweat and work even in the harsh sultry
because his fidelity and devotion towards his domain isn't fluctuate.
a new future for his country , will he cultivate.
Copyright © Raarya Kuanr | Year Posted 2015
The drum in my dreary chest
Beats and booms to the rhythm
Of coughing cannon
The commander at the backline
Sings the soldier’s motto and stomps succinctly
Underneath the uttered ululation
Lay a lean line going thus:
“Turn back to your tomb”
“Destroy the enemy”
‘I will dodge the diving bullet’
“Protect your country”
‘I will protect my dear life’
“The country sent you here”
‘Poverty drove me here’
“Time to act is now”
‘Indeed; well said by a backline commander’
This is not our battle but my battle
I will battle with rage like a belittled bear
And conquer the enemy and the immortality fear
My household awaits my back sojourn with sunken hearts
It is their smiles and not
The dutiful salute by the commander
And a firm handshake that feigns friendship
That commands my commitment
In a dingy hut I will sit
And listen to my grandmother's tales
As I watch my grandchildren grow
Copyright © Arnold Mutugi | Year Posted 2011
The warrior poet,is a warrior who fights articulately,
in fact,he doesn't fight at all,nor does he run,
he is not a coward,
he stands his ground,
confident and deliberately.
Angels by his side, he is guarded,
his styles potent,
not for the weak and fainthearted,
he needs not a word,
he has nothing to prove,
aware of his immense strength,
a true master of his sword.
His faith makes mountains move,
his enemies laugh,
yet like fools there caught in a groove,
every thought, every action calculated,
brilliant, strategic, like a chess move.
He bows to no man,
only to the will of God,
his plan is no plan,
he lives for the moment,
dreams like no one can,
he is a dreamer, a poet,
philosophical by nature,
a master of the arts,
his actions nomenclature,
no worries, patient with time,
his armor cloaked in faith,
In a new age,
his new ways defy the odds,
like the old days of mythological Gods,
the warrior poet has been through hellfire and back,
like grapes to cognac,
his weaknesses he showeth,
so his foes arrogance groweth,
he reals them in like a mastermind poet.
His religion is love,
he is not a warrior of war,
innocent like a dove,
saturated in folklore,
this warrior is fast, yet calm
and flows like the river,
his eyes glisten with prophecy,
do you feel a shiver???
He battles with principalities,
but God's will, is his vessel
for a battle with this man,
is not a battle to wrestle.
whatever it takes,
he has no desire for childish games,
only a destiny to fulfill,
he will paint and articulate, Gods will
his desire is peace and nothing more,
a true warrior poet,
Copyright © Aram Sarian | Year Posted 2017
I know you are fighting hard right now
The light that shines around you
Is the light of a fighter
You are one in a million and no one can
See that you are truly fighting for all of our families
You love your country and are dedicated to the USA
Your love and devotion shows truly every single day
May I say from the bottom of my heart
You are loved, needed and cherished for all time
In the book of the Lord up above, I hope you know
You will be remembered and admired for all eternity
Thank you for your dedication, devotion and fighting
For our country and our rights as being a great part of
Copyright © Laurel Larison | Year Posted 2012
The soldier, the war, and I
Today I am home and thinking to my self..
What would I be doing if I had a soldier coming home to me and my family?
What would I be doing if I was the soldier looking to going home to my family?
And then, I look back at all the years passed since this last war..
Many children have grown to become men, Others have grown to become soldiers
Where would I be if I had gone to the war and fought for my country?
Where would I be if I had gone and came back safely?
Where would I be if I had not gone at all because I was not qualified to go?
Would I be with my family or in a hospital injured?
Would I be standing proud, and laughing with my friends and family?
Or would I be dead, as I never got to come back?
Today I am home and thinking to myself..
Thinking of all of those brave soldiers, children still
Who are out there, suffering.. And some ill
Today I am home and thinking to myself..
How many woman are crying because of their gone loved ones
How many men are crying for their loved and missed ones
How many children are fatherless or motherless, or both!
And at the end I stop. I think no more..
I am grateful for the things I have,
I am grateful for the people who surround me...
And I am sure grateful to never have gone to a war; yet,
I sure appreciate the thoughts, courage, life, and suffering
Of all of those who have been touched by it.
Copyright © Thoubert Larus | Year Posted 2011
Drained to my very heart by our slow-paced arrival,
I wander through tasteless decor to the metal arches
Beyond which a future is unfurled.
My bag’s innards are spilled like blood in the Bible
Before the cold gaze of the armed man who marches;
He holds the key to this new world.
The mechanistic arch stands and takes quasi-sentience
Beside passport control, piercing my finely popped
Eardrums with sonic solemnity.
I am refused by technology but stagger forward hence
Into baggage claim where a suitcase pile is propped
Up like a holiday Tetris calamity.
My suitcase is soul black and with difficulty is found,
In its lucid eagerness to fasten itself a faux family;
Airports are filled with pretences.
Now we are away again, small trolley safe and sound,
On the road from snow, heat is where I plan to be.
Our intrepid journey commences...
Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013
When you truly know that life is worth living
When you truly feel that love is for giving
To die is a beautiful thing.
When you truly feel that hate is forbidden
When you truly know that death is worth heeding
To try is a beautiful thing.
Fate then becomes no more than a brief sweet moment,
Hanging upon anyone’s stiffened husky throat,
Waiting for our merciful God’s healing,
To release it in:
Copyright © yasser rhimi | Year Posted 2013
I was 'Detroit Red'
Through the 'Movement ' I found god
I became Malcolm
Copyright © Stewart Watkins | Year Posted 2016
One Month Down
I wake up when he calls in the middle of the night,
He says for our country that he’s proud to fight.
I close my eyes and I push away worry,
I talk about things that are cuddly and furry.
I won’t relax until I can hold him again,
But if anyone can do this, it’s got to be him.
I’ll always hope and I’ll always pray
That my favorite soldier comes home someday.
I’m honored to support him and proud to be his wife,
He’s my everything. He’s my whole life.
It’s hard to imagine that he’s already left,
And taken my heart, now that’s petty theft.
My soldier inspires me to care and to love,
And I keep praying to our Lord up above
For his safe return and a happy marriage,
And someday a mini-soldier in a blue and white carriage.
I miss the way he rests his hand on my face,
I’m hopelessly clumsy but he only sees grace.
I can’t cook, but he doesn’t care
Because when we order take-out, I always share!
I am very fortunate to be with him,
Because he gives to our country again and again.
I’m never alone because he’s close to my heart,
On earth or in heaven, we’re never apart.
I wonder what my soldier is doing right now,
And if he’s sad or scared or anxious somehow.
I love him more today than ever before,
And tomorrow I’ll love my soldier just that much more.
Please come back to me, soldier, safe and sound.
Eight more months until you’re homeward-bound.
Copyright © Catney Kittywell | Year Posted 2011
You are strong and bold...
Ageless stories go untold...
Our soldiers will come home...
To escape wars growing dome...
We pray, you be strong...
For our Nations freedom is not wrong
Copyright © Priscilla Cruz | Year Posted 2009
I wish for you encompassing protection, a little extra of Gods attention to follow you
wherever you roam until you return safely home.
I wish for you peace and love, a special tie from God above to keep you feeling safe
and warm even in the middle of a storm.
I wish for you true understanding, a secret insight to what he's planning, in this war
and in your life so you wont be broken by the strife. So you will know what is meant
to be will be and that you will make it back home safely.
No one will be able to bring you harm.
You will return home to your family's arms.
This prayer I send out for you, a soldier who is strong and true, a man of great
nobility, may you have the strength to BE ALL YOU CAN BE!
Copyright © Kimberly Anne | Year Posted 2011