John Elder

John Elder Poems

AS WE LAY IN OUR BUNKERS THE SOUND OF THE ARTILLERY ROLLED LIKE THUNDER ON A SUMMERS DAY AS THE BULLETS HIT THE GROUND AROUND US IT SOUNDS AS THE SUMMER RAIN. ALTHOUGH WE WERE TOGETHER WE EACH WERE ALONE IN THE HORROR OF THE STORM.

WE WERE YOUNG AND SET WITH DETERMINATION ON GETTING THE JOB DONE ME AND MY RIFLE WE ARE THE DEFENDERS OF OUR COUNTRY AND TO THE REPRESSED. WE WENT WITH OUT QUESTION TO DO ARE BEST WITH NO FEAR IN THAT FOG ALONE IN THE HORROR OF THE STORM.
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Before reaching the new gravestones in Arlington National Cemetery's it's easy to recognize why a simple, quilted, patch of green grass and white stones buried alongside the quiet banks of the Potomac River troubles the heart.
As one spends time in the section you can't help but breathe the restless cloud of uneasiness that hangs over the calm symmetry of the graves. Your eyes lie; you actually "see" the pieces of shattered hearts and lost ambitions scattered across the manicured grounds.
Names etched into fresh marble tell the sad tale of those young men and women of early varsity players benched early in the game. ‘Section 60' is America's promise to honor its warriors for first serving, and then dying, in the strange dusts on foreign soil.
Fathers, mothers, widows and children are all lost as they chase the ghost of vanished love inside the shadows of a sinister fog.
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Step by step we forge along, through a program when finished, will take us home.
Six weeks of classes, medications and fun, in six weeks new life will have begun.
Eighteen men, who lost their way, come together with something to say.
Inability to cope, distraught and even a tear, are some of the symptoms that brought us here.
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The Best Poem Of John Elder

The Horror Of The Storm

AS WE LAY IN OUR BUNKERS THE SOUND OF THE ARTILLERY ROLLED LIKE THUNDER ON A SUMMERS DAY AS THE BULLETS HIT THE GROUND AROUND US IT SOUNDS AS THE SUMMER RAIN. ALTHOUGH WE WERE TOGETHER WE EACH WERE ALONE IN THE HORROR OF THE STORM.

WE WERE YOUNG AND SET WITH DETERMINATION ON GETTING THE JOB DONE ME AND MY RIFLE WE ARE THE DEFENDERS OF OUR COUNTRY AND TO THE REPRESSED. WE WENT WITH OUT QUESTION TO DO ARE BEST WITH NO FEAR IN THAT FOG ALONE IN THE HORROR OF THE STORM.

AS THE PLANES ROARED ABOVE US IT GAVE US HOPE IN THAT HOUR OF BEING ALONE. WITH THE PASSING OF EACH DAY WE ALL KNEW WE HAD PAID THE COST. ALONE IN THE HORROR OF THE STORM.

KNOWING THE END OF THE STORM IS COMING NEAR MANY BRAVE BROTHERS STAND WATCH OVER US FROM ABOVE. THEIR MEMORIES FOREVER WILL BE WITH US AS WE STAND ALONE IN THE HORROR OF THE STORM.

ALL WE ASK OF YOU OUR GREAT NATION IS NOT TO FORGET OUR BROTHERS WHO ARE FOR EVER LOST IN THE HORROR OF THE STORM.

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