Share a veterans poem with someone who has served and given part of his/her life to protect their country. Although, words can not express our gratitude to those who have shown bravery it is important
that we recognize the sacrifice they made for their country.
We often take our freedom for granted, but we all have our veterans to thank for the freedom that we all enjoy. And perhaps expressing appreciation cannot say how we feel but we must always recognize
and thank our soldiers who have given us the freedom we all enjoy. As Abraham Lincoln said, "Honor to the soldier and sailor everywhere, who bravely bears his country’s cause. Honor, also, to the citizen who cares for his brother
in the field and serves, as he best can, the same cause." May we never forget.
On the veteran's honored brow.
God keep them long amid home and friends,
And may their declining years
Be warmed by the sunshine of love and care
That will banish all pain and tears.
Where are the Old Grand Army Boys?
Will be asked in the years to come;
When no column of blue will again be seen,
To follow the fife and drum.
But the answer borne on the breezes soft;
Will whisper, in requiem low;
They are gone, but the nation lives for which
They fought, in long years ago.
And the old flag waves o'er a people proud,
And the memories keep alive;
The deeds of valor that crown the boys.
Of sixty-one to sixty-five.
And the generation yet unborn.
Will whisper the name with pride
As they point to the silent graves of those,
Who for freedom once fought and died;
Not, the freedom that boasts of the men who stood
And defied our nation's laws.
And with bloody hands for four long years,
Fought to uphold a traitor's cause;
But to the loyal men such as we revere,
Men to flag and nation true.
Whose last breath prayed for a Union saved,
Neath the Glorious Red, White and Blue.
"Our thanks to our veterans for their dedication, bravery, and your willingness to protect all of us."
In Flanders Fields
by John McCrae
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
We wear the blood red poppy, the pipes play the lament,
We pause for just a moment, the message has been sent:
"Lest we forget," it beckons, lest we have fought in vain,
Remember! Oh, Remember! Lest we face war again!"
Our Comrades Gone, But Not Forgotten
Poet: C. C. Hassler
While pray'rs ascend and tears are shed,
And nations pay to honored dead.
Their tributes to his fame.
We'll weave our roses in a crown
And lay them sadly, gently down,
A wreath of immortelles to live,
And fadeless, in all ages give.
Bright lustre to his name.
Where mountain peaks blend northern skies,
Or where 'neath southlands balmy skies
The sweet magnolias bloom;
In all the land each loyal heart
Will share a patriot's loving part.
And joined in tears as one will lay
Our gift — a Nation's Love — today
Upon his silent tomb.
Farewell — old loyal comrade — when
The perfume of sweet flowers again
Bright spring-times breezes swell;
We'll think of thee with reverent thought,
And bless the work thy hands have wrought.
Farewell, God's will, not ours, be done,
Life's battles o'er, the victory won.
Farewell — a last Farewell.
"Your sacrifice is appreciated,
we thank you on behalf of us and our families."
Blessed day, singled from the rest,
By memory's pure test,
To wreathe the soldier's graves!
Strew floral gifts where they lie.
For surely God's eye
Looks down upon you who kindly and true
Remember your country's braves;
May Memory's laurels fondly enclose
Graves where the lov'd ones calmly repose:
On this beauteous sunny soil,
Where many a Southern gem doth coil
Round that fair memorial spot, the noble soldier's burying lot.
Where the Southern sunbeams shine.
You, these floral tokens twine:
Wreathe with a tender thought and with a tear.
The graves of those so loved and dear.