Mesen
12-02-2006, 10:45 PM
A veteran friend of mine sent this to me a while back and I thought I would share it with you. Been thinking about incorporating it into my POW/MIA ceremony.
STONE ROWS
Some sense of duty, or some grace
Makes me go to a quiet place
Long fields of long dead soldier's graves,
Above which still the old flag waves.
The quiet stones all stand, forlorn,
None left to note, none care to mourn,
To read the names, to think, to see...
Nobody else it seems, but me.
The lines of marble marching on,
Faint traces of good men, long gone.
I have what they bought at that price,
and marvel at their sacrifice.
The mud, the blood, the pain and cold,
A thousand stories now untold,
And folk hold cheap what they bought dear,
and hear of what they did, and snear.
You see it in the living eyes,
of those still left, made sadly wise,
who saw their friends and leaders die,
and fought, and won, and get asked, "Why?"
How can I now hope to repay
all those who had the strength to stay
and fight, and die, or live on maimed,
and who now Death has finally claimed?
No times like those make like demand of me,
and yet, I go, and stand,and think,
and close my eyes and weep
for those too early lost to sleep.
-Author unknown
Bree
STONE ROWS
Some sense of duty, or some grace
Makes me go to a quiet place
Long fields of long dead soldier's graves,
Above which still the old flag waves.
The quiet stones all stand, forlorn,
None left to note, none care to mourn,
To read the names, to think, to see...
Nobody else it seems, but me.
The lines of marble marching on,
Faint traces of good men, long gone.
I have what they bought at that price,
and marvel at their sacrifice.
The mud, the blood, the pain and cold,
A thousand stories now untold,
And folk hold cheap what they bought dear,
and hear of what they did, and snear.
You see it in the living eyes,
of those still left, made sadly wise,
who saw their friends and leaders die,
and fought, and won, and get asked, "Why?"
How can I now hope to repay
all those who had the strength to stay
and fight, and die, or live on maimed,
and who now Death has finally claimed?
No times like those make like demand of me,
and yet, I go, and stand,and think,
and close my eyes and weep
for those too early lost to sleep.
-Author unknown
Bree