Just some poetry I've written over the years to honour our veterans. Hope you enjoy!
Poem for Memorial Day 2010
The crosses line up row on row,
sombre, silent, in the morn - and in permanent sleep all those below listen to the piper's early tune. It matters not when they gave all, when blood was spilled, which war, or where, it matters just that they stood tall and served that flag proudly flying there. And so remember them, we must, Too young to die and sadly missed. Returned from flesh to richer dust, And by love's tears, and raindrops, kissed. I hope they hear the bugler's call and lie not lonely in that earth, cherished memories of those who that gave all, remind those left of freedom's worth. Bless them, bless them, bless them all, Young men grown old by long left horrors, who answered their country's desperate call and kept those days in all their tomorrows. So lay your wreaths and fly your flags from fence, and gate, and tree. Though remnants may be seeming rags remember those who kept us free. copyright Rose Dempsey May 30th 2010 | |
Poem for Memorial Day 2011
Rows upon rows of crosses,
each, a life once lived.
A voice no more, a smile once seen,
they gave all they had to give.
A silence, now, their companion -
the sounds of war long gone -
no gas, no bombs, no bullets tear;
We say a sad "so long".
"So long," to all our heroes
of ward fought, lost and won.
For mother's sons, long gone and mourned,
once loved. Each and every one.
A fleeting day comes once a year,
a time to stop and pray,
not only for our fallen
but those who fight today.
So, spare a thought for those, today,
who in the heavens roam,
remember that they gave their lives
and never made it home.
copyright Rose Dempsey 28th May 2011
Pearl Harbor
A poem to remember Pearl Harbour and those who were there
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"A day that will live in infamy," Roosevelt did declare
speaking of the atrocity and the souls who perished there.
Young men forever silenced, their laughter heard no more
on the day the Arizona sunk down to the ocean floor.
On that day sixty years ago, terror came from up on high
as squadrons loosed their bombs in that early morning sky,
and came they on their targets in the harbour far below
and left not 'til ships were sinking in the watery shallows.
Black smoke billowed upwards and blocked out clear blue dawn
flaming oil fanned out on waves, burning men that morn.
For some who tried to swim away,the enemy did lack
any compassion whatsoe'er, and shot them in the back.
Eleven hundred lives were lost, that day so long ago -
what kind of men they might become, of that we'll never know.
For most were young, in Spring of life, and destined thus to stay,
sent into immortality that awful murderous day.
Their names are etched upon the wall, their sacrifice to see,
those who perished on the land, on ships, or in the sea.
And in the hearts of those who knew the face behind each name,
the sorrow vents its memories as each year comes again.
The survivors now are grey and bent, their eyes grow ever dim,
their memories are painful, a poignant human hymn.
And as with other heroes, these too must honoured be,
because they and countless others died that we might live life free.
copyright Rose Dempsey
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Thoughts on the Dedication of the World War II Memorial
Like many others, I watched the dedication on tv that day
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Amid the sea of faces seated underneath the sun
were memories of others who to this day had not come.
Those who weren't invited not because they wouldn't care
but they gave their lives so long ago that they could not be there.
Their memories are hidden in the hearts of those who came -
the sounds of someones laughter that will ne'er be heard again;
a waft of sweet tobacco once smoked by comrade, young,
will cause a mind to wonder at who that lad might have become.
Yet buried are they in lonely graves across an ocean blue,
row upon row of crosses shows how many died for you.
For each there is a family, who no more got to see
the face of one they loved so much who died to keep us free.
And today a dedication to those who lived and all who died,
for these, the men and women who in that war fought side by side.
For some were in the trenches, some stayed behind the lines,
yet all gave of their very best in that the worst of times.
And so,
over half a century later, underneath a searing sun
to Washington these heroes and heroines had come,
to dedicate a memorial to all who fought and died,
to friends they once had fought with, a band of brothers, side by side.
And songs were sung that brought to each the mood that was back then,
And tears formed in the rheumy eyes of countless aged men,
And women also dabbed their eyes remembering times long gone
This memorial dedication, a World War 2 swansong.
Granite columns and copper wreaths, and open eagle wings;
engraved names of battles, of States and other things,
fountains spraying foam into the air above a lake
peacefully remember those who gave all for our sake.
So, as you look remember, and offer up a prayer
for all the men and women who weren't able to be there
and silently give a "thank you" that because of them we're free.
In World War 2, in foreign lands, they died for you and me.
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