 Poetry: May 31, 2006 Issue [#1071] |
  Poetry
This week: Edited by: Stormy Lady  
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| This is poetry from the minds and the hearts of poets on Writing.Com. The poems I am going to be exposing throughout this newsletter are ones that I have found to be, very visual, mood setting and uniquely done. Stormy Lady |
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We stood with tears in our eyes as we watched my sister's husband pick up his pack to leave for war. My sons asked over and over will their uncle be safe? Where will he be? When will he be back? All the questions a child would ask as they try to understand.
My sister just stood their in silence. They haven't been married very long and both are US Marines. They both knew this day could come and yet you could see her heart breaking as she said, " I will see you soon." and kissed him goodbye.
My family has had many member's serve in the Armed Forces. Both my sons want to enlist once they are old enough. So for my brother in-law and those who came before him and those yet to come, I wanted to share some amazing war time poems.
The Soldier
by Sophie Jewett
The soldier fought his battle silently.
Not his the strife that stays for set of sun;
It seemed this warefare never might be done;
Through glaring day and blinding night fought he.
There came no hand to help, no eye to see;
No herald's voice proclaimed the fight begun;
No trumpet, when the bitter field was won,
Sounded abroad the soldier's victory.
As if the struggle had been light, he went,
Gladly, life's common road a little space;
Nor any knew how his heart's blood was spent;
Yet there were some who after testified
They saw a glory grow upon his face;
And all men praised the soldier when he died.
Peace
by Rupert Brooke
Now, God be thanked Who has matched us1 with His hour,
And caught our youth, and wakened us from sleeping,
With hand made sure, clear eye, and sharpened power,
To turn, as swimmers into cleanness leaping,
Glad from a world grown old and cold and weary,
Leave the sick hearts that honour could not move,
And half-men, and their dirty songs and dreary,
And all the little emptiness of love!2
Oh! we, who have known shame, we have found release3 there,
Where there's no ill, no grief, but sleep has mending,
Naught broken save4 this body, lost but breath;
Nothing to shake the laughing heart's long peace there
But only agony, and that has ending;
And the worst friend and enemy is but Death.
Ode For Memorial Day
by Paul Laurence Dunbar
DONE are the toils and the wearisome marches,
Done is the summons of bugle and drum.
Softly and sweetly the sky overarches,
Shelt'ring a land where Rebellion is dumb.
Dark were the days of the country's derangement,
Sad were the hours when the conflict was on,
But through the gloom of fraternal estrangement
God sent his light, and we welcome the dawn.
O'er the expanse of our mighty dominions,
Sweeping away to the uttermost parts,
Peace, the wide-flying, on untiring pinions,
Bringeth her message of joy to our hearts.
Ah, but this joy which our minds cannot measure,
What did it cost for our fathers to gain!
Bought at the price of the heart's dearest treasure,
Born out of travail and sorrow and pain;
Born in the battle where fleet Death was flying,
Slaying with sabre-stroke bloody and fell;
Born where the heroes and martyrs were dying,
Torn by the fury of bullet and shell.
Ah, but the day is past: silent the rattle,
And the confusion that followed the fight.
Peace to the heroes who died in the battle,
Martyrs to truth and the crowning of Right!
Out of the blood of a conflict fraternal,
Out of the dust and the dimness of death,
Burst into blossoms of glory eternal
Flowers that sweeten the world with their breath.
Flowers of charity, peace, and devotion
Bloom in the hearts that are empty of strife;
Love that is boundless and broad as the ocean
Leaps into beauty and fulness of life.
So, with the singing of paeans and chorals,
And with the flag flashing high in the sun,
Place on the graves of our heroes the laurels
Which their unfaltering valor has won!
O Captain My Captain
by Walt Whitman
O Captain my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up--for you the flag is flung for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribboned wreaths for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You've fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchored safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
Concord Hymn
by Ralph Waldo Emerson
By the rude bridge that arched the flood,
Their flag to April's breeze unfurled,
Here once the embattled farmers stood,
And fired the shot heard round the world.
The foe long since in silence slept;
Alike the conqueror silent sleeps;
And Time the ruined bridge has swept
Down the dark stream which seaward creeps.
On this green bank, by this soft stream,
We set to-day a votive stone;
That memory may their deed redeem,
When, like our sires, our sons are gone.
Spirit, that made those heroes dare
To die, and leave their children free,
Bid Time and Nature gently spare
The shaft we raise to them and thee.
Thank you all!
Stormy Lady
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The winner of "Stormy's poetry newsletter & contest" [ASR] is:
When Mother sent me out to play
Just in the garden there,
I saw a flower in the bed
A crimson rose of deepest red
I drew my sword, beware.
Imagine now Red Dragon’s glare
His eyes sun fire hot,
With thorny spikes on tail and back
And poison breath he could attack
But would he get first shot?
He spit his poison cloud of rot
The mist it took my sight.
I staggered now in darkness thrust
My magic blade I had to trust
I swung with all my might.
Red Dragon rasped, “You silly knight,
I’ll do you in this day.”
I dropped and rolled and felt the sting
His tail thorns caught me lingering
I bled right where I lay.
I had to make Red Dragon pay,
For terror he had wrought.
A menace to my neighborhood
This nemesis of childhood
I'd make him come to nought.
I feigned my fading as we fought
His pride and ego swelled.
When he drew nigh to watch me die
Then through his neck my sword did fly
Red Dragon I had felled.
The Queen rushed out and screamed and yelled,
“You lopped my precious rose.”
She took the stick out of my hand
And banished me from Garden-land
That’s how the story goes.
So if you’re ever sent to play
In Garden-land my friend,
Beware red dragons lurking there,
But even more you must beware,
Queen Mother in the end.
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These are the rules:
1)You must use the words I give in a poem.
2)They can be in any order and anywhere throughout the poem.
3)All entries must be posted in your portfolio and you must post the link in this forum "Stormy's poetry newsletter & contest" [ASR] by June 23, 2006.
4)The winner will get 3000 gift points and the poem will be displayed in this section of the newsletter the next time it is my turn to post. (June 28, 2006)
The words are:
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Good luck to all 
