(Photo)Two Poems for Veterans Day 2019 The Society November 11, 2019 Beauty, Culture, Poetry 10 Comments Veterans Day by Roy E. Peterson It matters not where wars are fought, What matters is what blood has bought. It matters not where weapons thrust. What matters is that it is just. It matters not where be the foe. What matters is the heart to go. These men had hopes for higher things, For future fame, for wedding rings. They lived and breathed like everyone, Yet stayed to fight till victory’s won. They gave their all like brave men will. They fought the fight that goes on still. Not all returned for some all gave, And lie unmarked in foreign grave. They may be missing in the war, But they are all accounted for: In that great roll call they will stay, And stand with us on Veterans Day. Roy E. Peterson is a writer and former U.S. military army intelligence officer who currently resides in Texas. Glory Glimpsed by T.M. Moore I glimpsed it high above—the bright white head, gold beak, and strong, majestic wings outspread— as, gliding effortlessly on a breeze, it soared beyond a distant stand of trees, and then was gone. A patriotic rush coursed through my soul, reducing to a hush all outward sounds, and lighting up my mind with images of former days, the kind I might have come across in some old grade school book, or seen held high in a parade, or on the presidential seal—the threat of war, the hope of peace, the visage set in strength and pride, resolved for freedom. I heard all those rousing marches, saw the sky lit up with fireworks and that tattered flag still flying, knowing that there’s never brag nor boast among this humble people. And I thanked God for this very special land and all her people and achievements. As the eagle disappeared, I wondered, “Has our glory likewise faded? Was it ever more than a wish or hope, and will we never attain the greatness represented by that soaring bird, there high up in the sky?” But, in the long run, does it matter? Should we care? Or are such noble longings good enough, though not quite real? So shall we drift off history’s pages, lacking any Lift to let us soar? And must the nation’s story be just one disappearing glimpse of glory? T.M. Moore’s poetry has appeared in numerous journals, and he has published five volumes of verse through his ministry’s imprint, Waxed Tablet Publications. He is Principal of The Fellowship of Ailbe. He and his wife, Susie, reside in Essex Junction, VT. NOTE: The Society considers this page, where your poetry resides, to be your residence as well, where you may invite family, friends, and others to visit. Feel free to treat this page as your home and remove anyone here who disrespects you. Simply send an email to firstname.lastname@example.org. Put “Remove Comment” in the subject line and list which comments you would like removed. The Society does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or comments and reserves the right to remove any comments to maintain the decorum of this website and the integrity of the Society. Please see our Comments Policy here. Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window)Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) 10 Responses Sally Cook November 11, 2019 Mr. Peterson — Though somber, a well-written and reflective poem, filled with many memorable lines. Mr. Moore – The eagle is indeed both a noble and a terrifying bird, and a fit symbol for our nation. In the poem, there is one line that does not sit well with me. That is line three, as follows: Line 3 as, gliding effortLESSly on a breeze You have made it work at the expense of mispronouncing the word effortlessly — with the emphasis on the third syllable., when it is normally pronounced as Effortlessly. This mars an otherwise thought-provoking poem. I suggest: As gliding through the heavens on a breeze This is only a suggestion; it doesn’t have to be my version, but please, change it. Incidentally, my father was waiting on the dock to be shipped to France when the WWI Armistice was announced; otherwise I might not be here. Thanks to both of you gentlemen for caring about the spirit of our country. Reply T.M. November 11, 2019 The word is deliberately chosen because to say it one has to slow down, and thus engage somewhat the bird’s glide. The secondary emphasis of -less- serves the need of the iambic foot. Thanks for the kind words and suggestion, but I will leave it as is. Reply C.B. Anderson November 12, 2019 T.M., yes, since “-less-” is sandwiched between two completely unstressed syllables (“-fort-” & “-ly”), it is somewhat automatically promoted (by the ear and as a pro forma matter) to a stressed syllable. Such accommodations to meter are very common in iambic and anapestic lines. hpo_corp November 11, 2019 Bless you, Sally! We are indebted to such men as your father who were willing to brave battle for us all. Reply hpo_corp November 11, 2019 Bless you, Sally! We are indebted to those such as your father who were willing to go into the unknown for an uncertain fate. Reply Sally Cook November 11, 2019 Thank you. He was in the air force when it was still the army air corps. Traveled all over, from Texa to Long Island, made many friends. He would not have missed it for the world. Later, at the start of WWII, he tried to volunteer, but they said he was too old — he was heartbroken. emma November 12, 2019 it one has to slow down, and thus engage somewhat the bird’s glide. The secondary emphasis of -less- serves the need of the iambic foot. Thanks for the kind words and suggestion, but I will leave it as Reply Lannie David Brockstein November 12, 2019 The best of us who practice what we preach To sacrifice war for democracy, Doth know that verbally abusive speech Displays the worst of all illiteracy. Reply Joseph S. Salemi November 12, 2019 Illiteracy is cut from the same cloth As those who misuse older words like “Doth.” Reply C.B. Anderson November 12, 2019 Indeed, Joseph, the third person singular present of “do” is not what is called for here. Also, “To sacrifice war for democracy,” doesn’t quite mean what I think the writer intended. I think what was intended was something more like: To suffer war for democracy. One may sacrifice lives, but I’ll be damned if I can figure out what it means “to sacrifice war.” Leave a Reply Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.