BW21: Memorial Day

 

Memorial Day

By

Clara Ann Thompson

Go;—for ’tis Memorial morning—

Go with hearts of peace and love;

Deck the graves of fallen soldiers;

Go, your gratitude to prove.

Gather flow’rs and take them thither,

Emblem of a nation’s tears;

Grateful hearts cannot forget them,

In the rush of passing years.

Strew the flow’rs above their couches;

Let thy heart’s affection blend,

With the dewy buds and blossoms,

That in fragrant showers descend.

Strew the flow’rs above the heroes,

Slain for loving friends and thee;

Canst thou find a better off’ring,

For those sons of liberty?

While the buds and blooms are falling,

Earnest hearts are asking,—Why—

In a tone, though low and gentle,

Yet, as ardent as a cry,—

‘Why must precious lives be given,

That our country may be free?

Is there not a nobler pathway

To the throne of liberty?

‘Can we choose no nobler watch-word,

Than the ringing battle-cry,

Harbinger of strife and bloodshed,

Must we sin, that sin may die?

‘Long ago, to far Judea,

Came the blessed Prince of Peace:

Shall we ever heed His teaching,

That these wars and feuds may cease?’

BW22: Memorial Day by Frederick W. Emerson

 

Memorial Day 

by

Frederick W. Emerson

Our Nation is reverently thinking today

Of the loved ones sleeping beneath the cold clay;

Of the sacrifice made, and the brave deeds done,

To preserve our Union as a glorious one.

We ne'er will be able to pay the great cost

Of the noble, the true, and the brave that we've lost;

But over their graves, with tears like the dew,

We'll lay our sweet flowers of red, white and blue.

Our Nation is paying its tribute today

Upon the green mounds where its loyal men lay;

While statesman, and orator, fondly repeat

The story of those who knew no defeat.

They tell of the Union united again,

By the triumph of those who died not in vain;

Of the forty-four states all loyal and free,

Of the peace, and the freedom, from sea to sea.

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BW22: Memorial Day

All Gave Some, Some Gave All by Flagwix 

We Honor You Today

By

Susan R. Smith 

To all of our veterans

Far and near.

We thank you for your service

For all those years.

You sacrificed your time,

And some gave your life.

You preserved our freedom

By willingly paying the price.

Many of you

Were sent overseas.

You were wounded in battle,

With scars and disease.

But courageous and brave,

You weathered the storm.

You faced every battle

With faith and beyond.

We honor you with joy

For all that you've done.

You stood strong for our country,

For our daughters and sons.

So no one stands alone,

We walk hand in hand.

Remember, we are with you.

Together we shall stand.

We salute you today.

Hear what we say.

Let our words speak eloquently

In this special way.

On this day,

Let us express our love and thanks

For the sacrifice you paid.

You served in honor

For many years and days,

And we will never forget

How you were strong and brave.

**********************

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BW21: Lamplight by May Wedderburn Cannan

Lamplight 

by

May Wedderburn Cannan

Source: Penguin Book of First World War Poetry

We planned to shake the world together, you and I

Being young and very wise;

Now in the light of the green shaded lamp

Almost I see your eyes

Light with the old gay laughter; you and I 

Dreamed greatly of an Empire in those days,

Setting our feet upon laborious ways,

And all you asked of fame

Was crossed swords in the Army List.

We planned a great Empire together, you and I,

Bound only by the sea;

Now in the quiet of a chill Winter's night

Your voice comes hushed to me

Full of forgotten memories; you and I

Dreamed great dreams of our future in those days,

And all I asked of fame

A scarlet cross on my breast, my Dear,

for the swords by your name.

We shall never shake the world together, you and I,

For you gave your life away;

and I think my heart was broken by the war,

Since on a Summer day

You took the road we never spoke of, you and I

Dreamed greatly of an Empire in those days;

You set your feet upon the Western ways

And have no need of fame ---

There's a scarlet cross on my breast, my Dear,

And a torn cross with your name. 

****************************

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BW22: Freedom is not Free

Yesterday during a conversation with a customer, he said "I'm deploying to Afghanistan next week and I'm not sure if I'll return. I never know each time they send me." I thanked him for his service before I hung up the phone, aware of his bravery in the face of the unknown. Sometimes you feel helpless when all you can do is offer up prayers for a safe return. Thinking of all the men and women over the centuries who have fought and died in service to our country this memorial day.

Memorial Day 

© 2001 Ali M., 3rd Grader, Academy Elementary School, Madison, Connecticut.

"As the flowers rest on the decorated graves and the sunlight shines on the beautiful sailboats, Uncle Sam whispers in my ear about how we should care for the soldiers and remember the ones that have died. Swimming pools open, BBQs fry. Today is the day to think of what they have done for us. There are blurs of red, white and blue marching down the street and flags are lowered at half-mast. But we should always remember and never forget what set us free, from this very day on."

Freedom Is Not Free

by

Kelly Strong

I watched the flag pass by one day.

It fluttered in the breeze.

A young Marine saluted it,

and then he stood at ease.

I looked at him in uniform

So young, so tall, so proud,

He'd stand out in any crowd.

I thought how many men like him

Had fallen through the years.

How many died on foreign soil?

How many mothers' tears?

How many pilots' planes shot down?

How many died at sea?

How many foxholes were soldiers' graves?

No, freedom isn't free.

I heard the sound of TAPS one night,

When everything was still

I listened to the bugler play

And felt a sudden chill.

I wondered just how many times

That TAPS had meant "Amen,"

When a flag had draped a coffin

Of a brother or a friend.

I thought of all the children,

Of the mothers and the wives,

Of fathers, sons and husbands

With interrupted lives.

I thought about a graveyard

At the bottom of the sea

Of unmarked graves in Arlington.

No, freedom isn't free.

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