War,
A life's direction
opens the window to man's soul
ultimately,
is part of the soul's purpose.
War and redemption,
A thunderous doorway opened too soon by silence-
two minutes of silence for the glorious dead.
Tho the sacrifice was bitter
Peace is preserved
by men of distinction
Giving official resolution to a ceasefire
for the served.
Ceased fighting at the eleventh hour
of the eleventh day,
giving silence to a moment without war.
At the end of the country
curators of power meet
giving treaty to open a doorway
to a prelude of peaceful negotiations-
an Armistice for the cessation of hostilities
a doctrine that initiates sacrifice of a bitter war,
two minutes of silence for the world to rejoice
on the eleventh hour of the eleventh day.
A day to serve as Holiday
one that gives homage to those who served in wars,
Holiday for those who buried an unknown soldier
in a memorial of lilies far from home-
homage to those who died in one war
leaving children for war to take in distant decades.
There is no greater sacrifice than to sing
Hymns of praise to the fallen
to the ones we salute as heroes
on their walk back to the homeland
with head in hand,
hats off to the veteran
whose wretched legs unfurl the flag
in a twenty-one gun ode.
War Marches to the cadence of a celebratory song
no celebratory song can abolish memory -
the memories of war stories in their eyes,
memories enshrined on a memorial
that comes years after the names on the tomb.
Come one! Come all! To bear arms of War!
Hear ye the words echoed by every
uniformed airman, sailor, soldier -
those child-like voices of suicide war advocates -
an echo of words
spoken that fabricates a common thread
of country devotion -
"Be all one can be for his country!"
And When torn peace is threatened,
deliver War to celebrate on the eleventh day.
Written by Gail B. Stewart Garber
Lakewood
A life's direction
opens the window to man's soul
ultimately,
is part of the soul's purpose.
War and redemption,
A thunderous doorway opened too soon by silence-
two minutes of silence for the glorious dead.
Tho the sacrifice was bitter
Peace is preserved
by men of distinction
Giving official resolution to a ceasefire
for the served.
Ceased fighting at the eleventh hour
of the eleventh day,
giving silence to a moment without war.
At the end of the country
curators of power meet
giving treaty to open a doorway
to a prelude of peaceful negotiations-
an Armistice for the cessation of hostilities
a doctrine that initiates sacrifice of a bitter war,
two minutes of silence for the world to rejoice
on the eleventh hour of the eleventh day.
A day to serve as Holiday
one that gives homage to those who served in wars,
Holiday for those who buried an unknown soldier
in a memorial of lilies far from home-
homage to those who died in one war
leaving children for war to take in distant decades.
There is no greater sacrifice than to sing
Hymns of praise to the fallen
to the ones we salute as heroes
on their walk back to the homeland
with head in hand,
hats off to the veteran
whose wretched legs unfurl the flag
in a twenty-one gun ode.
War Marches to the cadence of a celebratory song
no celebratory song can abolish memory -
the memories of war stories in their eyes,
memories enshrined on a memorial
that comes years after the names on the tomb.
Come one! Come all! To bear arms of War!
Hear ye the words echoed by every
uniformed airman, sailor, soldier -
those child-like voices of suicide war advocates -
an echo of words
spoken that fabricates a common thread
of country devotion -
"Be all one can be for his country!"
And When torn peace is threatened,
deliver War to celebrate on the eleventh day.
Written by Gail B. Stewart Garber
Lakewood
Leave a comment