Long Day of remembrance Poems
Long Day of remembrance Poems. Below are the most popular long Day of remembrance by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Day of remembrance poems by poem length and keyword.
For my Grandfather, Australian 9th Light Horse.
He died
when I was just emerging
from the unremembered,
he left
with the sound
of muffled sobs
coming from
his room.
My Grandfather lived
in yellowed photographs
and the torn patches
of fabric souvenired
from a downed
Turkish biplane.
His sword
was too heavy
for a child to lift.
On each Anzac Day
I would open
a battered biscuit tin
to count his medals
and the broken teeth
on an old
set of dentures.
As a child, I worried
that he had gone
to heaven
without his teeth.
Note.
ANZAC refers to Australian and New Zealand
Army Corps, specifically to soldiers serving
1914 - 1918. ANZAC Day is a day of remembrance
for all those who gave their lives in service and for those who served in defense of the Nation in all wars. ANZAC Day
is held on the 25th April in both Australia and New Zealand.
Who could forget what happened on that unsuspecting and sunny day,
when no visible clouds drifted over the Twin Towers?
Little after midnight, the cool rain adds to the melancholy
of the descending angels; and I join them in prayer to remember the tragedy!
This should be a day of remembrance, not of hatred for the ignoble acts
the wicked committed, but would God accept unkindness instead of merciful deeds?
They called it another day of infamy,
and like Pearl Harbor we were taken by surprise;
that was an attack aimed at the military,
but on September 11 the terrorists attacked the civilians!
It seemed like lightning striking down sturdy trees,
and then fire broke out with smoke trails of a thousands feet;
" O my God! ", every employee screamed...quickly running down
the stairs engulfed by fire...causing an indescribable chaos everywhere!
" Take my hand, I will lead you to safety! " the firefighter said to the coughing woman.
" Hold onto my arm! " the policeman yelled out to the frail man,
who had dropped his eyeglasses and couldn't see!
Every firefighter and policeman acted like them, rescuing many without fearing death;
and hundreds of them, that awful morning, never returned home alive...
what a tragedy for their families that watched in horror and couldn't help!
Who wouldn't remember the courage of their noble and willing hearts?
And furthermore, who wouldn't engrave their valorous names on plaques and monuments?
Up above, by the gates of Paradise...Christ and His Father awaited them to accept their souls;
while archangels surrounding God's throne, sung hymns that humans couldn't sing...
those hymns that all the earthly heroes will sing with them when Heaven mourns again!
Their portraits, pictures and memorabilia hang above the fireplaces,
and on the decorated walls of the victims' homes, precincts and firehouses;
how could anybody take them down as they were worthless items?
Prize them more than gold or diamonds, o friends grieving that tremendous loss even today;
don't hate those who caused you sorrow and unbearable pain, be forgiving and show mercy...
as God does toward us; o friends remember your heroes for their valor and sacrifice!
My poem is dedicated to the victims and survivors of the September 11 attacks on America.
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
A sad day of remembrance
awaken in the hours of the nights
praying and searching for answers
nobody is reachable
during the time of the sympathy
the people gather to pay their respects
later on in the journey of life
you find yourself neglected
where are they? You are alone
everyone's has gone
you find yourself continue in praying
God give me grace
after all, is over
loved one is gone
cover me oh Lord, in your arms
life is hard to move on
time passes by, the tears and cries
God can see you through
for all that you do
trust in God with all of your heart
you are never alone
although everyone has moved on
God sits high on the throne.
As we linger in the darkened depths of time's unrelenting motion,
It's a moment to honor those who embarked on this journey.
On battles fought on foreign shores,
Their courage and sacrifice forever bore.
Remembrance Day, a solemn occasion,
To honor the fallen with deep admiration.
Their names etched in granite and stone,
Their spirits in the wind forever known.
From the trenches of World War I,
To the beaches of Normandy under the sun,
Our brave soldiers fought with pride,
Their sacrifices were never denied.
The tears of mothers, the cries of wives,
Echo through the years, their hearts deprived.
Of loved ones lost to the ravages of war,
Their memories shine like a distant star.
In the jungles of Vietnam, the deserts of Iraq,
Our soldiers bravely faced the enemy's attack.
Their blood, sweat, and tears staining the earth,
Their valor and bravery proves their worth.
So on this day of remembrance and reflection,
Let us honor with gratitude and affection,
The men and women who gave their all,
So we may live free, standing tall.
Remember the fallen, the brave and true,
Their sacrifice, a debt we cannot undo.
For in their memory, we find strength,
To carry on with pride, at any length.
So let us never forget the price they paid,
In all the wars, in all the battles laid.
For their sacrifice was not in vain,
Their memory forever shall reign.
“The Nazi’s had no value of life,
They neither understood it,
Nor did they reckon it merited any value,”
My dad objectified at the table,
One Remembrance Sunday,
When I was young.
Although November the 11th,
Was inaugurated by King George the V,
In 1919, just after World War I,
As a day of remembrance of the Great War,
We use it as a day on which,
We can consider both wars,
And, for some, any war.
The King never wanted again,
To see any more bloodshed between nations,
And so rendered it as our choice,
By making it the people’s contemplation.
We must remember their resilience,
Their hope in the face of certain death;
Tirelessness embroidered in tears,
Their well considered bliss in pallid gloom.
Fight and figure jostled the in-education,
Of the German’s thirst for war, power and dictatorship;
And truth flamed in our side,
Until by our character we succeeded.
That valour is perhaps passed on to us,
The kids of future generations,
Because from our older relatives,
We can understand how they fought.
With this bravery, we need to cultivate,
Trust, love and understanding between nations,
Between our foreign neighbours and friends,
So that killing and maiming is not a possibility.
~Praying For Love~
(Linked)
Praying for Love
P
Love in this world
R
World God can change
A
Change with His love
Y
Love Lord can bring
I
Bring in all hearts
N
Hearts be transformed
G
Transformed by love
F
Love, no more hate
O
Hate evil, wrong
R
Wrong, sad, destroys
L
Destroys earth, souls
O
Souls, break hearts men
V
Men need praying
E
Praying for Love.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2016
September.10.2016
-So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.
1 Corinthians 13:13 (NIV)
-“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.
John 3:16 (NIV)
~Author's Notes:
" The Linked" is a poetry style created by Erich J. Goller, in 2008.
-For 9/11 Day of Remembrance. Observing tomorrow the 15th anniversary of the September. 11. 2001 terrorist attacks.
During an early stroll, did you notice a bird leaving his nest
in search of his pretty mate? But he will not wander off
more than a mile, if the first raindrop lands on his crest;
morning after morning...he'll take another flight over the cliff
chirping, " No season is alike spring over the breezy reef! "
The flower-picker, like a floating butterfly, searches for flowers
that grow in fields by a river and she'll sell them from door to door
to buy herself black high heels and a stylish long, red dress;
yesterday she sang, " No season is alike spring, smell the lively air!"
Today wearing those shoes and dress: she resembles fabulous Cher!
The town's square is a sea of solemn faces, a band plays a patriotic song
and being a day of remembrance, veterans take off their hats;
widows cry remembering their loss, others sympathizes them and sing along...
" No season is alike spring when flowers decorate monuments! "
Ah, this is a spectacle for the faint of heart...I must shed tears!
When sunrise makes meadows gleam and every bell joyfully rings,
one recalls that it took immense love to create that brilliant scene...
and all He asks of us is that we believe and offer prayers,
but night is for us to contemplate when all is silent and serene,
"No other season is alike spring with a sky so crystalline!"
“Christmas – that magic blanket that wraps itself about us, that something so intangible that it is like a fragrance. It may weave a spell of nostalgia. Christmas may be a day of feasting, or of prayer, but always it will be a day of remembrance – a day in which we think of everything we have ever loved.” Augusta E. Rundel
Winter drafts crept in, thin and sly,
a silver breath through window cracks~
Jack Frost’s graffiti on the panes,
furnace’s heat rose up chasing him back.
Mother’s kitchen smelled of cinnamon,
her oven wafting delicious sugar clouds.
Mother’s hands were like an alchemist’s,
turning dates to diamonds, figs to jewels
adding candied fruits in batter deep~
The brandy seeped through cheesecloth veins,
the fruitcake drunk with brandy’s dark desire.
Enchanted by her royal presence,
I stood before the Christmas tree~
a queen in her green tinseled gown,
an angelic tiara in her hair,
her ornate jewels catching every light~
and at her feet, six ladies-in-waiting,
poinsettias dressed in bright red velvet,
kept court beside her every night.
Made from a polar bear’s yawn of wool,
My snow-white mittens ate my fingers whole~
Father softly hummed Jingle Bells
while dancing with me in the town square.
Streetlamps blurred into golden halos.
My boots cracked the ice, like a clock
counting down to Saint Nick’s slow-motion dive
from the courthouse roof to the square below.
Then—hooves? No. Just the mayor’s truck.
Santa’s laugh rang out above carolers’
honeyed voices singing The First Noel.
Christmas Eve: the stocking’s gullet
spilled peppermint, rhyme, and silver moons.
Then came the slice, the waited prize~
a slice of fruitcake steeped in sugared brandy
whipped cream melting like Christmas wishes.
I wish Christmas could again taste like this.
In essence the unconscious mind,
Reveals all knowledge for mankind.
To pursue dreams, each vision brings,
Then soar above the earth on wings.
We navigate uncharted shores,
In oceans deep, mankind explores.
Now Astronauts walk on the moon,
And vaccines keep us all immune.
While seeking methods,to ensure,
Research disease to find a cure.
Now if we want to travel far,
There's railways, aeroplanes, or car.
Some might say, it's so much finer
Cruising on an ocean liner.
Or any time we are alone,
Our friends can call by mobile phone.
And television let's us share,
Events worldwide, in our armchair.
We speak with words for to converse,
But language sometimes can be terse.
In truth some minds are always blind,
With grandeur of a certain kind.
As mankind shows his cruel face,
Destroying life, to his disgrace.
By wars that escalate unchecked,
Whilst innocents, their lives are wrecked.
For Peacemakers, they clutch at straws,
To find someway to end those wars.
Their supreme efforts are in vain,
No changing minds of those insane
It seems that only peace can be,
In virtual reality.
4/22/2016.
For the Innate Magnetism poetry contest.
Sponsor. Unseeking Seeker.
Date of contest end.
Friday November 11th 2022.
Armistice Day of Remembrance.
.
No matter yours truly an atheist,
I consider myself fascinated with my ancestry
x cited regarding: upcoming
Jewish holiday fast approaching
by the bewitching hour which doth hold key
to Chamber Of Secrets to – me
analogous being Sorcerer's Apprentice
as you will read and see,
though impossible mission
to proffer extensive family tree.
Courtesy of Google, this grown man
linkedin with tribes of Zion
indulged curiosity of mine
proudly harkens, (particularly
as he doth accumulate orbitz around the sun)
from Semitic ancestral line
surrounded by Jewish community
(countless years ago,
when we called Penn Valley
our place of residence)
off a street that arches
(like Noah’s bow sprint)
and named Woodbine.
Yet, he knows virtually nothing
about Jewish History
lets inquisitiveness wander
as a descendent from the “Lost Tribes Of Israel”
pondering how his life would be lived
if baptized in customs, faith, and religion
considered one of the oldest codified paradigms.
The first of the High Holy Days
or Yamim Nora'im ("Days of Awe")
celebrated on the first two days of Tishrei
the first day of the seventh month as "Zikhron Teru'ah"
("A memorial with the blowing of horns").
Rosh Hashanah is described as "the day of judgment"
(Yom ha-Din) and "the day of remembrance"
(Yom ha-Zikkaron)
occurs 163 days after the first day of Passover (Pesach)
beginning of Rosh Hashanah
at sundown at the end of 29 Elul.
The evening before Rosh Hashanah day is known
as Erev Rosh Hashanah ("Rosh Hashanah eve").
On Rosh Hashanah day,
religious poems, called piyyuttim,
are added to the regular services.
A special prayer book,
the Mahzor is used
on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.
This sacred day, the horn doth blow to chauffeur
(two precious daughters
now grown and autonomous
didst long since exit and escape
parental basket of deplorables,
where freedon beckoned,
when age of consent attained
exited out front door)
marginally linkedin with historical past
replete with tantalizing lore
where legions of commandments pour
and more relevant than ever
as global tempests roar
atrocity diminishing Hebraic peoples
courtesy incessant pograms and war.