thank you to the men and women of the armed services

gooooood moooooorning to all who post here.

THANK YOU TO ALL THE MEN AND WOMEN WHO HAVE OR ARE SERVING WITH HONOR IN THE ARMED SERVICES OF THE FREE WORLD. MAY YOUR DAYS BE SAFE AND PEACEFUL.
WARRIOR'S, COME HOME SOON TO THOSE WHO LOVE AND MISS YOU.

Stephen R. Henninger
MEMORIES OF YESTERDAY

They were young, they were strong
We thought they would live on
But death has no schedule
It just comes along
It takes the weak and takes the strong
And takes their memories of yesterday along
But for those of us who linger on
Those memories of yesterday will always live on.

©Copyright September 2007 by Stephen R. Henninger

Stephen R. Henninger
THE COLD BLACK GRANITE

It is but a piece of black stone
The shape and size is unknown
It’s tall and slender and mirror like
And has names etched on it, all alike
Each piece is shaped differently
High on one edge and the other slopes gently
When they put them all together they form a V
And when viewed from afar is an accepting degree
There are 58,249 names etched in the panels
That stretches from one end to another and forms a mantel
The granite takes on a life of its own
Many personalities and all home-grown
The reflections are evident when you look at the panels
You don’t see yourself it’s like tuning in a channel
You see the fallen ghosts on the other side
Their numbers match the names alongside
They are all smiling and giving a little wave
As if to say all should be happy and brave
For they gave themselves so we could be free
Never forget them I must make my plea
As I turn to leave, the sun begins to set
The granite gets darker but they are still there, don’t fret

The Cold Black Granite

©Copyright April 20, 2007 by Stephen R. Henninger

Author’s Note: After writing the April 2007 Theme poem,“God Bless the POWs – They Are the Real Heroes”, I was doing some research on POW/MIA Army Spec 4 Kenneth James Patton whose bracelet I wear. As I was thinking about him I was also thinking about the 58,000+ names on the Vietnam Memorial wall in DC which I have visited so often and thinking of the wall inspired me to write this poem.

Stephen R. Henninger
THE FINAL TRIBUTE

The soldier’s picture was as clear as a lake
His boots longed for that shine that it use to take
His weapon was inverted and sank in the ground
With his dog tags dangling and swinging around
Taps rang out as they passed in review
They touched his helmet and showed they approved
Of his actions that day that saved the lives
Of his comrades and friends and all the guys
They showed their respect and honor that day
With a snappy salute that resembled a wave
It was a final roll call of those who gave their lives
That THE FINAL TRIBUTE was to memorialize.

©Copyright February 27, 2007 by Stephen R. Henninger

Author’s Note: This poem was inspired by an article in the newspaper about soldiers saying troops want to finish the job they started after they attended a memorial for a fallen soldier.

Stephen R. Henninger
THE OLD TATTERED FLAG

The flag was once new and flying proudly
The colors were bright and always rightly
The union was bluer than the blue sky above
And the 50 stars were shining as bright as a dove
The red and white stripes were laid out horizontal
Their design and number were not coincidental
Seven red and six white for a total of thirteen
To recognizes the original colonies not to go unseen
The battles it endured were many, some short, some long
But the results ended the same for the right and the wrong
The dead and the wounded, too many to count
Came faster and faster, no chance for a recount
The Flag colors faded and tattered on the ends
As it flew through the fight it was our best friend
It gave us courage and meaning to see her fly
In light of all the soldiers lying around us that died
The Flag has a meaning to everyone who sees her
Some are different than others but we all can concur
That regardless of how worn and tattered she is
She will always fly as she originally did
The flag was once new and flying proudly

©Copyright June 5, 2007 by Stephen R. Henninger

Author’s Note: As I was sitting in my office today, looking out my windows and looking at the company flag pole, I was watching the US flag fly so proudly (it was very windy) and I started to think about some movies that I had seen that had a segment in it that focused on the American Flag such as “THE PATRIOT” and “WE WERE SOLDIERS ONCE… AND YOUNG”, both starring Mel Gibson.

The flag segment in “The Patriot” was at the end of the movie when they were in their final battle in the American Revolution against the British and everyone was retreating and the flag guard was shot and fell, Mel Gibson picked up the flag and began to wave it and yell to urge his men to go forward and not retreat.

The flag segment in “We were soldiers once… and young”(Vietnam War) was again at the end of the battle at Ia Drang when the Americans left a little flag on top of a wooden post after they left and the North Vietnamese commander was standing there looking at it and shaking his head and could not believe their resolve.

These thoughts inspired me to write this poem.

As I say in the poem the Flag has many different meanings to everyone who sees her. It doesn’t matter what flag it is but it holds a special meaning.

My Daddy is a Sailor
http://www.vfwpost1503.org/my_daddy_is_a_sail...
My daddy loves me
I already know
He hugs me and kisses me
Please daddy, don't go.

As he leaves our home
On this cold wintery morn
I know that I'll miss him
My heart will be torn.

See my daddy's a sailor
I'm so glad to say
He sails on a ship
Sometimes so far away.

He travels the ocean
And goes to many places
He visits foreign countries
And sees different faces.

My daddy he misses me
He always writes me a letter
To say he'll be home soon
And that all will be better.

I'm counting the days
Until my daddy comes back
When he walks in the door
I will help him unpack.

Oh daddy please hurry
I'm waiting for you
I know you're still out there
On the ocean so blue.

Just sailing and sailing
And sailing the seas
I hope you are coming
Hurry up daddy, please.

It's been a long time
But the day's finally here
When my daddy comes home
I know that he's near.

I watch as his ship
Returns from the sea
We're proud of my daddy
My mommy and me.

He walks off the ship
As proud as can be
He did his part
So we can be free.

I run to my daddy
for a hug and a kiss
He squeezes me so tightly
A squeeze that I miss.

I'm happy my dad's home
Happy as can be
I know he did his job
for my mommy and me.

Author Unknown

Happy Valentine's Day ...Soldiers.

We may be miles apart, but you are right here in my heart! <3

ALL GAVE SOME, SOME GAVE ALL.
They may take my LIFE, but they will NEVER take my FREEDOM!

"It is accomplished by the few for the many - FREEDOM!"
Harley Harrold

goooooood mooooooorning

THANK YOU TO ALL THE MEN AND WOMEN WHO HAVE OR ARE SERVING WITH HONOR IN THE ARMED SERVICES OF THE FREE WORLD. MAY YOUR DAYS BE SAFE AND PEACEFUL.
WARRIOR'S, COME HOME SOON TO THOSE WHO LOVE AND MISS YOU.

Mimi Palmer Hensley
KEEP YOUR TEARS

War seems forever ugly, never fair
Enemies at sea, sand and bush, in the air –––
Our bravest and best leave to “do or die”
Despite those who sit at home and cry
“please don’t hurt enemy soldiers
Make nice-nice, forget you’re warriors”

Don’t cry for the other side, keep your tears
For freedom’s defenders
Our sisters, brothers, husbands, lovers
Our hard working American soldiers.

Whatever can some folks be thinking?
Here’s all our troops need to be hearing;
“Folks back home are pulling for you guys,
“Keep your head down, honey, try to survive.
Hold your chin high; we want you to know
You and your buddies are real live heroes.”

Don’t cry for the other side, keep your tears
For freedom’s defenders
Our sisters, brothers, husbands, lovers
Our hard working American soldiers.

Bunker Hill, Battle of the Bulge
Siege at Hue, Heartbreak Ridge
Streets in Berlin, Baghdad or Saigon,
Mogadishu, Iraq, Afghanistan,
Every time, our soldiers know what to do;
Get the other guy first, before he gets you.

Don’t cry for the other side, keep your tears
For freedom’s defenders
Our sisters, brothers, husbands, lovers
Our hard working American soldiers.

©Copyright May 14, 2004 by Mimi Palmer Hensley

Mimi Palmer Hensley
OUR HEROES LIVE

Flanders Field, Arlington Cemetery, the WALL
hold some of our honored dead, not all;
some of them come to life inside my head
whisper, shout,“never let the World forget”.

The heroic dead make fine companions;
I’m glad to be one of their champions;
while I live, they’ll never go unsung,
nor shall the nation forget what they’ve done.

Spring mornings they’ll never get to see,
sleepless nights, they keep me company
they walk beside me and sigh in my ear,
telling me stories the living should hear.

“I fought against the Kaiser’s Germany.”
“I fell on the beach at Normandy.”
“I rode in the charge up San Juan Hill.”
“Do men remember Valley Forge still?”

Worst of all is “I died a prisoner,
forgotten, alone, after the torture.
Don’t let them leave another guy behind;
make sure POWs are kept in mind.”

Most frequently I hear,“I was a boonie rat,
hard core grunt, door gunner, tunnel rat.”
That was the war that claimed my warrior
though he died slowly and long after.

©Copyright 2003 Mimi Palmer Hensley

To all veterans past and present who have their eyes on the olive branch and their arrows at the ready, Thank You for my freedom...

I Am Enzo - The Baker wrote:

To all veterans past and present who have their eyes on the olive branch and their arrows at the ready, Thank You for my freedom...

Beautifully written! I feel the same way! Thank you!

Lisa I. Hilbers
BEFORE

We are a Nation divided, in a time of fear,
We are angry, we are lost, and we refuse to hear.
We are searching for a peaceful resolution, from this imminent war,
We just want to go back to the way it was ~ Before.

Before ~ Iraq took over an oppressed little country known only as Kuwait,
Before ~ Nineteen terrorist sent thousands of innocents to Heaven’s gate.
Before ~ we were attacked and murdered upon American soil,
Before ~ the many, many plans of other terrorists we have had to foil.

And since we have began to realize that our time is growing short,
And there is not much chance left that the plans we will abort,
Many have began to pray, reaching for the Word,
Praying that somehow someway peace in our leader’s minds will be heard.

Before ~ the first shot is fired and a soldier dies,
Before ~ the loss reaches his Mother’s ears and she begins to cry.
Before ~ she is handed that folded flag in remembrance,
Before ~ the idea of turning back, is left only to chance.

Today is one more day that brings us closer still,
To that point of no return, to when the blood will spill.
And the line of division is being marked clearer once more,
Where we’ll be forced to choose where we’ll stand, and on which side of the door.

It is your choice; you have that ‘Freedom’ to choose,
Because of those that fought ~ Before ~ that refused to lose.
I hope you choose wisely, and that you truly understand
That the blood that paid for that choice came from God and man.

United we stand, divided we’ll fall,
And I thank God for those that answer their Country’s call.
Whether it be in peace time, or in troubled times of war,
I pray for those today, just like all those that came ~ Before ~

©Copyright January 31, 2003 by Lisa I. Hilbers

Lisa I. Hilbers
FROM BABE TO FREEDOM FIGHTER

Lord, I remember the first time,
I held him in my arms so proud.
I looked in his tiny blue eyes,
And to you Lord, I then spoke aloud.
Lord, I thank you kindly for this gift of life,
This babe of great spirit and health.
Please give me insight to enrich his heart,
Beyond boundaries of greed and wealth.
And from that day Lord, I took this child,
And molded him into a man.
I couldn’t have been more proud, as he stepped aboard that ship,
Willingly and wholeheartedly to take a stand.
But as I stood there upon that pier,
And watched that ship sail from my sights,
I knew the cargo aboard was precious,
It was that babe I once held so tight.
Then his words to me came back so clear,
Mom, a Fighter of Freedom I’ve chose to be,
He said it proud, he said it strong,
He said it with American dignity.
So today Lord again I call your name,
And I speak with a Mother’s voice.
Please watch over that babe, now Freedom Fighter,
As he fulfills his life’s choice.

Beyond the horizons of the setting sun,
And behind the tears of a Mother’s pain.
Each one will fight for Old Glory proud,
So our Freedom will forever remain.

©Copyright January 22, 2003 by Lisa I. Hilbers

Lisa I. Hilbers
FROZEN TEARS

Looking back there are many times, I feel the burns of war,
Not just in the scarred over wounds, but in the depth of my inner core.
For I remember so vividly, the words of my dying friend,
As his eyes became set, and his soul did descend.
In my dreams I see those eyes, of all the men that died,
Looking at me through frozen tears, and with them many times I’ve cried.
Heroes each and every one, a truth I’ll not deny,
They gave their all, every drop, and never once asked why.
Even as their boots, dug holes right to the bones,
Not one time did you hear a grumble or a groan.
The ground was wet, and the mud was cold, they done their very best,
They fought with heart, a gallant bunch, wore pride upon their chests.
Each time the shells began to fly, no fear they would show,
They’d just dig in a little deeper, and go with the flow.
They each were patriots, heart and soul, answering their country’s call,
And the names of many you can find, on that long stone wall.
But I see them nearly every day, in a place I visit way too often;
I’ve seen them through my falling tears, remembering their flag draped coffins.
They gave their lives for a purpose, and a belief they thought to be right,
And today they’d do it all again, they’d fight Freedom’s fight.

©Copyright January 23, 2003 by Lisa I. Hilbers

Good Morning RH!!

Wow Lisa Hilbers writes beautifully, brought tears to my eyes.

Thanks again for always sharing.

Chris - PSL wrote:

Good Morning RH!!
Wow Lisa Hilbers writes beautifully, brought tears to my eyes.
Thanks again for always sharing.

Morning Chris, yeah her stuff is powerful.

Lisa I. Hilbers
RESTING SOULS

Each morning as he raises Old Glory to her post;
it’s 1968 all over once again,
He’ll stand there quietly fighting the memories he still carries;
as the Red, White and Blue, guards the familiar terrain.

It’s thirty-five years later and seems only yesterday;
he was a brave young Marine battling his way through hell,
Then after a while being brave wasn’t enough;
insanity would have been more peaceful, but he fought that as well.

The worst of it all was when they said it was over;
pack your gear, you are going home,
For some reason you felt as though you were abandoning ship;
leaving the thousands of American souls in the jungle to roam.

The next thing they remembered they were hugging their wives;
everything else was a fast forwarded blur,
But somehow life had lost its true meaning;
and the wife became angry when you refused to confide in her.

Your face in the mirror reflected the same;
it was your heart that could no longer be found,
The numbness of war was holding it hostage;
and it was afraid to whisper a sound.

The years passed by and the scars began to fade;
the wounds would no longer seep,
But there are times that your mind falls back into the past;
bringing forth the pain it keeps.

It’s a silent torture for all those that were there;
fighting bravely for their shores to defend,
For them every day is a Memorial Day;
for they still hear the cries of their wandering friends.

So as he stands there beneath the Stars and Stripes;
proudly he salutes her gallantry,
And within himself, he allows his friends to rest;
at home in the Land of the Free.

©Copyright May 24, 2003 by Lisa I. Hilbers

Lisa I. Hilbers
SAIL AWAY

As she watches him walk away, she weeps silent tears,
For she knows from the past, all of war’s fears.
As proud as she was, she was even more scared,
But she’d remain quiet, her thoughts she’d not share.
She’d reared him to be brave, to fight for his beliefs,
Show compassion for others, to give the hurting relief;
To put faith in his Savior, to watch over and guide,
To be true to himself, and his heart inside.
She taught respect for the colors, the Red, White and Blue,
That they stood for Freedom, Justice and all that is true.
So today when he sails away, to defend his Country’s shores,
Although she will miss him, she’ll be proud even more.
He was no longer a boy; he had become a man,
With dreams and hopes, and the need to take a stand.
To guard against an evil, with all his might,
To protect his loved ones; to fight the fight.
So sail far away, my young sailor lad,
Your Mother’s heart may weep, but she’ll always remain glad.
I knew the day would come I’d have to let you go,
But sweet memories I hold, from watching you grow.

©Copyright December 31, 2002 by Lisa I. Hilbers