ANOTHER MEMORIAL DAY

Taps play mournfully o’er the grave
Loved ones bow their heads and weep
The Flag folded, casket lowered down
And the Hero, laid to endless sleep.

This scene played out too many times
With all the sadness and the pain
As War torn hearts ache with the loss
It happens, time and time again.

All people should attend a Service
To see the Honor Guard in dress attire
To hear the bugler play that sad tune
And to be startled, when the rifles fire.

A small tribute to those who gave all
The true Patriots of our great Land
To face the horrors of the battlefield
Where sometimes, Freedom makes its stand.

War seems to be the only way, we humans
Know, to change what we don’t like
It seems; peaceful times are short lived
Before there’s another military strike.

The military/industrial complex wins
No matter, if war is won or lost
And the New World Order thirst for power
Uncaring, what their selfish goals may cost.

Maybe one day, we can live together
And learn to respect those different ways
Before we destroy ourselves and Earth
And end the terrible price the Soldier pays.

But until that day finally comes, if ever
And our Brave, no longer have to die
We must Honor their ultimate sacrifice
Even as we wait and ponder, "Why?"

And instead of just a day off work
To enjoy the pleasures of our Country
Just remember what this day is for
To Honor those who gave all, for you and me.

Del "Abe" Jones
5.20.2008

A National Moment of Remembrance

That poem about where “poppies blow”
And, “the crosses, row on row”
Still rings true, these ninety years
After written, still brings tears.

We still have Dead, “amid the guns”
And lose our young and our loved ones
Those who lived, “short days ago”
Who, “felt dawn, saw sunset glow”.

In Flanders Fields, “the poppy red”
Still grow where the blood was bled
They, “Take up our quarrel with the foe”
And still die for Freedoms that we know.

They pass, “The torch” to, “hold it high”
And not, “break the faith with us who die”
For they, “shall not sleep, though poppies grow”
Beneath all those, “crosses, row on row”
In Flanders Fields.

Del “Abe” Jones
4-25-2005

Many places and people lay claim to our Memorial Day but it is a time for
all Americans to come together to Honor our War Heroes from all Wars. A
three day weekend when we should all pause a moment and remember them as
decreed by President Clinton in the year 2000.
http://www.usmemorialday.org/speeches/president/may0200.txt

Visit http://www.inflandersfields.be/default2.htm for Flanders Fields
Museum

The name of John McCrae (1872-1918) may seem out of place in the
distinguished company of World War I poets, but he is remembered for what is
probably the single best-known and popular poem from the war, "In Flanders
Fields", 1915. He was a Canadian physician and fought on the Western Front
in 1914, but was then transferred to the medical corps and assigned to a
hospital in France. He died of pneumonia while on active duty in 1918. His
volume of poetry, In Flanders Fields and Other Poems, was published in 1919.
http://www.english.emory.edu/LostPoets/McCrae.html

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

In 1915, inspired by the poem "In Flanders Fields," Moina Michael replied
with her own poem:

We cherish too, the Poppy red
That grows on fields where valor led,
It seems to signal to the skies
That blood of heroes never dies.

This is a neat tribute to Vietnam Veterans.
http://www.operationmom.org/ToOurParents.html

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