Sunday, May 26, 2013

Memorial Day

He’s alone and bleeding – and so far away.
    As Death sits beside to impatiently wait
While his thoughts fly home to hug Mom and Dad 
    And account to the question, “If only I had…”

His burning tears sting a path down his face
     And drop to the ground to mark this place.
A place where devotion met sorrow and fear,
     The place where a soldier shed his last tear. 

And now we pause to help soften this wrong,
     And belove all the soldiers who've died alone.

     P. Davis

Sunday, January 13, 2013

A Sunset Nearly Done

  (Upon noticing the haunting beauty of a deep winter sunset over the forest)

Limbed sentinels stand cold against the glow
    As orange surrenders to the clear black flow
And the Night Crest comes with light blessing for all
    And speaks softly of "rest now" - and the coming wake-up call.

     P. Davis