Sunday, July 1, 2012

Freedom Isn't Free

With the Independence Day celebration on the 4th of July here in America, a patriotic post is certainly in order. I would like to share a poem that I received this past week from my friend, Barbara.

The author is unknown, but he did an excellent job capturing the emotion of patriotism. There was no title either so I gave it the “Liberty Isn’t Free”.


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.
With hair cut square and eyes alert,
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?

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 . . .


With a large number of American servicemen resting peacefully on French soil, the rendition of the Star Spangled Banner sung in French seems appropriate.

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