We Remember

To all the families all over the world who grieve fallen heroes...we remember, we care.

Remembrance

A gun, a bomb, hatred and loss
Will never set us free
A Son, a tomb, love and a cross
Has sealed our victory

~Janet Martin~

“It is finished” John 19:30

This is my body given for you
Do this in remembrance of me. Luke 22:19

A Veteran's Thoughts from a Park Bench

Poetics Aside Prompt; Write A Veteran's Thoughts

The streets team with young men now, and dreams

But it was not so back when

The draft came to town and stole from

Mothers and lovers

All the young men

Now the park is filled with laughter

Of care free girl and boy

While in countless 'Flanders Fields'

Lies the price tag

Of freedom’s joy

He sits alone on the park bench

Thinking of 'him'

With tears in his eyes 

He remembers

His buddy, Jim

Jim will never see

The fruit of his sacrifice

And he weeps because so many

Seem ignorant

Of freedom’s price

© Janet Martin

No 'Free' in Freedom

Somberly, up the quiet tree-lined street
The steady stream of solemn ranks are led,
As sun-beams dance to the drummer’s beat
Filtering through the branches overhead
Beyond the tears and past the trees
The music of a small child’s laughter swells
Stark contrast to the infantry
Bowing ‘neath the tolling of the bells

Then, as the bag-pipe sound exalts
The melody of sweet Amazing Grace
The banner-covered coffin halts
For it has reached its final resting place
The last note fades, the cannon flies
Echoing across a distant shore
But none as stirring as the mother’s cries
“There’s no ‘free’ in freedom anymore

Put down your banners, lay down your guns
My sweet baby boy has died
Tributes, salutes, many battles won
Won’t bring him back” she cried
“Take away all the roses for nothing will be
Like it ever was before
The price of freedom is too hard for me
There’s no ‘free’ in freedom anymore”

Freedom (part two)

Up the rocky skull-strewn trail
A teaming, screaming throng of hatred surged
Swarming ‘round a form so pale
Upon a place called Calvary they converged
Beyond the tumult, wild and raging
Not a solitary friend is found
Stark contrast to the shouts and praising
As the palm-tree branches decked the ground

Then as the sound of steel on steel
Rings beyond the horror on the hill
As they drive in each cruel nail
‘Gainst the cries of ‘Father, not My will’
And as they raise the blood-stained cross
In victory the maddened thousands roar
As Mary weeps her deepest loss
“There’s no ‘free’ in freedom anymore

Take away your hammers, lay down your swords
My dear precious son has died”
As the lightning flashed and the thunder roared
There at His feet she cried
“Take away all your hatred, your jeers and chanting
For you have slain my Lord
Take away all your weapons, your raging and ranting
There’s no ‘free’ in freedom anymore”

There’s no ‘free’ in freedom, oh what a price
So that we may be set free
There’s no ‘free’ in freedom, love's sacrifice
Is beyond understanding for me
There’s no ‘free’ in freedom, let us value each day
And cherish each living breath
Oh, what a price someone needs to pay
For the cost of freedom is death

Janet Martin

Mien Liebling Daag (My Darling Day)

Poetics Aside Prompt: Use a foreign word in the title of your poem

My darling day, do you not know?

Sometimes it’s hard to see you go

But deft the dawning disappears

Shaping life’s moments into years

For soon the twilight comes again

To dirge of dismal autumn rain

Yet, soon its somber melody

Will simply be a memory

Oh, we may strain against the tide

But time sustains its rigid stride

And soon dawn’s surge of zeal and zest  

Fades with the daylight in the west

And soon the boy becomes a man

None can escape Time’s subtle hand

For swift the evening shade is cast

And present moment becomes past

The ebb and flow of come and go

The limbo twixt wonder and woe

Has fortified a keen belief

The price for love’s sweet joy is grief

The bliss of having bears a cross

With it we learn to suffer loss

And in the contrasts of love’s grip

Life’s pure and liebling moments slip

Mein liebling daag, my darling day

My interlude to come-what-may

My love and longing rivalry

Of what has been to what will be

But oh *mein schatzi; liebster; freund

We dance, we cannot change the mind

Of living's little smile and strife

Or moment's as they shape a life

© Janet Martin

German; my treasure, darling, friend

Liebster is darling for a man

Liebling is darling for a woman

Beautiful Truth

He wishes now

He had not lied

For beautiful truth

Has nothing to hide

…so, dear young child

Do not lie to your mother

For one small lie

Will lead to another

© Janet Martin

Oh Night...

Oh night, you do not shape the silence

Like the quiet of the day

When the harvest is all gathered

And the vesper dies away

But over the mute garden

At twilight, soft you creep

And cover gilded fringes

With your garment dark and deep

 Oh night, sometimes your quiet

Is a comrade, kind and true

But sometimes it is keen and sparks

Raw thoughts of ‘missing you’

And into the still darkness

Our reminiscing bleeds

And only unmarred silences

Its want and wonder heeds

Oh night, you strip away the masks

Of bravery and pride

Beneath the cloak of quietness

We do not need to hide

Or wear for meek appearance

A calm and cool facade

Here in the folds of darkness

It is simply us and God

© Janet Martin

While He is Gone...

A slight variation to the poetics aside prompt 'when he is gone'

While He is gone, beyond our vision

He who put on humble flesh so that He

Would suffer akin, every grief and temptation

That ever afflicted humanity…

While He is gone, where clouds of heaven

Received Him out of our feeble sight

He is preparing a royal wedding

Soon he will come to gather His bride

While he is gone, though generations

Pass, and creation groans in its grief

Yet still he lavishes goodness and mercy

Upon us, in spite of our unbelief

While He is gone, He is not extending

For our torment His patient grace

But while He is gone His love unending

Pleads for the lost beyond His embrace

While He is gone, though the clouds appear listless

And heaven seems distant; though deeply we yearn

What He has said will not be disregarded

In power and glory He will return 

© Janet Martin