Nestled under the shade of the old oak tree
Surrounded by ancient walls of stone
There protected from the wind and the squalls
Lay the unsung heroes that made this country free
The markers of marble and of slate
Sit silent on the hill as the river slowly menders by
And still they wait, for someone to notice
They wait there still
Lost to History are the names
Like Mr. Littlefield, and
The brothers Pierce John and James
For this country they campaigned
© JPM 11/2/2008
Near where I work there is a small cemetery on a hill overlooking a river. In this cemetery are some heros those that fought in the reveltionary war, and the civil war. But, also the people that lived and worked and exixsted and built with their hands this country they may not have fought in wars but they are heros none the less.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem