Lest We Forget

Waiting at the Door

I can’t explain so deep inside
The very fabric of my soul
Only a heart that grieves such loss
Can ever truly understand

It’s like you’re waiting at the door
Until a loved one comes back home
You feel a longing in your heart
When they appear the longing stops

But in a loss that never ends
You’re always standing at that door
You feel the longing in the breeze
So incomplete and never filled

I cannot find the words to say
Just what it’s like to want forever
Never seeing them again
Just always waiting at the door

Alison Mary Dunn

Phyllis Frazier Harris

November 15, 2009

Let Us Remember Them - by Blair Leger

'Please wear a poppy', the lady said
And held one forth, but I shook my head.
Then I stopped and watched as she offered them there,
And her face was old, and lined with care;
But beneath the scars the years had made
There remained a smile that refused to fade.

A boy came whistling down the street,
Bouncing along, on care free feet
His smile was full of joy and fun,
'Lady', said he, 'May I have one?'
When she pinned it on, he turned to say,
'Why do we wear a poppy today?'

The lady smiled in her wistful way,
And answered, 'This is Remembrance Day,
And the poppy there is the symbol for
The gallant men who died in war,
And because they died you and I are free--
That’s why we wear a poppy, you see'.

'I had a boy about your size,
With golden hair and big blue eyes.
He loved to play and jump and shout,
Free as a bird he would race about.
As the years went by, he learned and grew
And became a man--as you will, too.'

'He was fine and strong, with a boyish smile,
but he'd seemed with us such a little while
When war broke out and he went away,
I still remember his face that day.
When he smiled at me and said ‘Good-bye,
I'll soon be back, Mum, so please don't cry'.

'But the war went on and he had to stay,
And all I could do was wait and pray.
His letters told of the awful fight,
(I can see it in my dreams at night),
With the tanks and guns and cruel Barbed wire,
And the mines and bullets, the bombs and fire.'

'Till at last the war was won-
And that’s why we wear a poppy son'.
The small boy turned as if to go,
Then said 'Thanks lady, I'm glad to know.
That sure did sound like an awful fight,
But your Son-- did he come back alright?'

A tear rolled down each faded cheek;
She shook her head, but didn't speak.
I slunk away in a sort of shame,
And if you were me you'd have done the same;
For our thanks, in giving, is oft delayed,
Though our freedom was bought-and thousands paid.

And so when we see a poppy worn,
Let us reflect on the burden borne
By those who gave their very all
And asked to answer their country's call
That we at home in peace might live.
Then wear a poppy. Remember-- and Give!

Lest we forget......



Copyright ~ 2009 by Blair Leger & ilovepoetry.com

Joanne Mum To Alex And Ciara

November 12, 2009

THANK YOU SO MUCH.

I WOULD LIKE TO THANK ALL THE BRAVE MEN AND WOMEN WHO GAVE THEIRE LIVES THAT WE MAY LIVE IN FREEDOM.
YOU SHALL NEVER BE FORGOTTEN.
MAY GOD HOLD YOU IN HIS HANDS FOREVERMORE.

John Oconnor

November 11, 2009

remembering my greatgrandad x

remembering those who fell and remembering those who are still falling in these troubled times, god bless you all you will never be forgotten. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Audrey Haralambos

November 11, 2009