Long Nostalgiasound Poems
Long Nostalgiasound Poems. Below are the most popular long Nostalgiasound by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Nostalgiasound poems by poem length and keyword.
This morning I stumbled out of bed and stood at rigid attention!
(I thought I'd had a nightmare and had lost my military pension!)
A familiar strain wafted across the valley and swirled about my ears.
'Twas the "Reveille" bugle call, a sound I hadn't heard in years!
The sound came from nearby Fort Carson since the wind was just so.
(I recalled my warrior days rising at dawn to earn my meager dough!)
I pictured in my mind the bewilderment of the young and raw recruits,
Cussing the bugler, gathering up their gear and pulling on their boots!
At noon the bugle called, "Come and get your chow, boys! Come and get your chow!"
(My grub was slopped on a battered steel tray - troopers dine off china now!)
That's just the way it was - I'm happy for them tho' - they deserve the best!
For their devotion to duty and firm resolve, we are truly blessed!
At five o'clock, the bugler sounded "Retreat" to end another day.
The garrison flag was slowly lowered, folded and stowed away.
The cannon boomed - its thundering boom reverberated about the post.
Every soldier stood proud and tall and saluted the flag, totally engrossed!
The haunting notes of "Taps" sound at ten o'clock then fade away and die,
As sleeping soldiers are assured, "All is well, safely rest, God is nigh."
How I relish the dulcet bugle calls echoing from across the way;
I wouldn't object if the wind would blow my way each and every day!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(©All Rights Reserved)
Thirty feet of white picket fence,
doesn't sound that exciting.
But Oh, to see the blood red blooms,
of a Rambler at one end entwining.
In and out, it weaves its spell,
all but hiding the aged white boards.
The picket fence holds strong and true,
a trellis to the Rose it affords.
At the other end of the yard,
where the fence meets a lamp pole,
stands a lush Butterfly Bush.
Leaning on the pickets as if it were old.
A Lilac so full as to block the light,
draping clusters of flowers like grapes.
For months hiding the fence from our sight,
beneath a butterfly enshrouded cape.
Sunflowers stand tall and proud,
a stone birdbath adds rustic flair.
Against a backdrop of metered white,
vibrant colors scent the air.
The Pear tree adorns the picket fence,
with dappled shade, then Autumn leaves.
While birds alight atop worn points,
eating the ripe sunflower seeds.
Thirty feet of white picket fence,
doesn't sound that exciting.
Until you saw the one in Grandma's yard,
a tranquil scene that was so inviting.