"Greater love has no one than this,
than to lay down his life for his friends."
~John 15:13~
In the United States,
Memorial Day is on the last Monday in May
and honors Americans who gave their lives
for their country in wars.
In England we celebrate this day in November
please visit my REMEMBRANCE DAY PAGE.
MEMORIAL DAY.
Hither we come to scatter flowers
This thirtieth day of May,
Upon our fallen heroes' graves
On this Memorial Day;
We cherish now no bitter thoughts
In this fair land of ours,
But on all fallen heroes' graves
We come to scatter flowers.
The rank and file in North and South
Believed their cause was just;
We find upon each battle flag
Inscribed, "In God We Trust;"
And in this sunny land of ours,
Now sleeping side by side,
The Union Blue and Southern Gray
Lie buried where they died.
Since we have come to scatter flowers
This consecrated day,
We can not cherish bitter thoughts
Toward those who wore the "Gray;"
Believing that their cause was right,
Freely their blood they shed;
Then, let us strew-alike-the graves
Of all our sacred dead.
And those who for the Union fought,
In scattering flowers to-day
On heroes' graves, would never dream
Of passing by the gray;
And heroes of the "Southern Cause,"
In paying homage true,
Will not forget the graves of those
Who wore the Union Blue.
Thrice welcome, then, this sacred day.
That binds our hearts anew;
Our country undivided stands,
For all-now love the Blue;
On resurrection day,
Linked arm in arm, we'll find the boys
Who wore the Blue and Gray.
~By William Henry Clay Dodson~
"MEMORIAL DAY POEM."
The bugle echoes shrill and sweet,
But not of war it sings to-day.
The road is rhythmic with the feet
Of men-at-arms who come to pray.
The roses blossom white and red
On tombs where weary soldiers lie;
Flags wave above the honored dead
And martial music cleaves the sky.
Above their wreath-strewn graves we kneel,
They kept the faith and fought the fight.
Through flying lead and crimson steel
They plunged for Freedom and the Right.
May we, their grateful children, learn
Their strength, who lie beneath this sod,
Who went through fire and death to earn
At last the accolade of God.
In shining rank on rank arrayed
They march, the legions of the Lord;
He is their Captain unafraid,
The Prince of Peace...Who brought a sword.
~By Joyce Kilmer 1917~
PEACE.
PEACE will come when people live
In friendship, side by side,
And cherish understanding
More than hatred, greed and pride.
PEACE will come when people see
All people as the same,
And no one has to live in fear,
In ignorance, or shame.
PEACE will come when people
Who are needy can reach out
For shelter, food, or love,
And no has to do without.
PEACE will come when people
Learn to listen and to care
About the rights and dignity
Of people everywhere.
PEACE will come when love and trust
And kindness know rebirth,
And on that day all people
Will rejoice in peace on earth.
~By Amanda Bradley~
FREEDOM IS NOT 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,
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?
No, freedom isn't free.
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..
No freedom isn't free.
~Copyright 1981 By KellyStrong@aol.com
LCDR Kelly Strong, USCG~
Here with permission
TAPS.
Day is done...Gone the sun
From the lake...
From the hills...
From the sky.
All is well...Safely rest
God is nigh.
Fading light....Dims the sight
And a star....Gems the sky....Gleaming bright
From afar....Drawing nigh
Falls the night.
Composed By Major General Daniel Butterfield
MEMORIAL DAY.
In distant field of sunny France
Where strangers come and go,
Amid the farms of Flanders, where
The fragrant breezes blow,
Our solder-dead in quiet sleep
'Neath crosses row on row.
Here shrapnel shells once shrieked and burst
And took their toll of death;
The very wind, itself a foe,
Bore poison on its breath.
Above their graves the birds now sing
As round that home of yore,
When, carefree boys, they romped and played;
Those childhood days soon o’er,
The boys to brave and strong men grown,
They romped and played no more.
They put aside their childish toys,
A man’s work each must do,
And when their country called for them,
To her they answered true.
"We must protect our native land:
She shall not suffer wrong
For she has reared and nurtured us,
We’re men and we are strong.
We’ll bid good-by to those we love;
It will not be for long."
With aching hearts and tear-dimmed eyes
We watched them go away.
Some have returned but many sleep
In foreign lands today.
Where English roses bloom and fade,
In France where lilies grow,
Among the fields of Flanders, where
The scarlet poppies blow,
Our soldier-dead are not forgot
Though strangers come and go.
~By Eula Gladys Lincoln~
MEMORIAL DAY.
We walked among the crosses
Where our fallen soldiers lay.
And listened to the bugle
As TAPS began to play.
The Chaplin led a prayer
We stood with heads bowed low.
And I thought of fallen comrades
I had known so long ago.
They came from every city
Across this fertile land.
That we might live in freedom.
They lie here 'neath the sand.
I felt a little guilty
My sacrifice was small.
I only lost a little time
But these men lost their all.
Now the services are over
For this Memorial Day.
To the names upon these crosses
I just want to say,
Thanks for what you've given
No one could ask for more.
May you rest with God in heaven
From now through evermore
~By C W J (C W Johnson)- May 1975~
WHEN I'M GONE
When I come to the end of my journey
And I travel my last weary mile,
Just forget if you can, that I ever frowned
And remember only the smile.
Forget unkind words I have spoken;
Remember some good I have done.
Forget that I ever had heartache
And remember I've had loads of fun.
Forget that I've stumbled and blundered
And sometimes fell by the way.
Remember I have fought some hard battles
And won, ere the close of the day.
Then forget to grieve for my going,
I would not have you sad for a day,
But in summer just gather some flowers
And remember the place where I lay,
And come in the shade of evening
When the sun paints the sky in the west
Stand for a few moments beside me
And remember only my best.
~(c) Mrs. Lyman Hancock~
DO NOT STAND AT MY GRAVE AND WEEP
"Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow;
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain;
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush;
I am in the graceful rush.
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die."
~Mary Frye (1932)~
(this poem was written by the above author...
but there are a few versions about,
if this is not correct in anyway...then let me know,
and I will correct it.)
QUOTES
"To live in the hearts
of those you leave behind
is never to die"
~Robert Orr~
"Soldier, rest! Thy warfare o'er,
Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking,
Dream of battled fields no more.
Days of danger, nights of waking."
~Sir Walter Scott~
"The greatest glory of a free-born people
is to transmit that freedom to their children."
~William Havard~
"THE PATRIOT" ~ *smile*
Memorial Day weekend was coming up,
and the nursery school teacher
took the opportunity to tell her class
about patriotism.
"We live in a great country," she said.
"One of the things we should be happy is that,
in this country, we are all free."
One little boy came walking up to her
from the back of the room.
He stood with his hands on his hips and said...
"I'm not free. I'm four."
PLEASE CLICK HERE FOR ALL FLANDERS FIELD POEMS.
(My Remembrance Day Page.)
*MY GREETINGS FOR MEMORIAL DAY to send*
| In Memory. | In Flanders Field. |
I have removed my guestbook for the moment,
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