The Old Soldiers Grave Poem by Smoky Hoss

I sit near an old soldier's grave
Reading the words upon his tombstone,
Brushing away the dirt and moss
To see: 'Died 1944 - In Battle at Bastogne'.

I wonder when, and how, his folks received the sad news-
I wonder, how often afterward they cried;
And did they continue so missing him...
Until their own time came to die.

Is there anyone left, who remembers this man-
Am I alone, the only one who cares anymore;
How long Lord before none ponder the price paid
To win the second world war?

So many of those who did return home
Sadly, have now with age passed on;
May we never forget what bit they all gave
In the greatest combined human effort, the world's freedom to save.

' Some gave all,
All gave some. '
So true; thank God they did not quit
Until the work was completely done.

With tears of thankfulness laying upon my cheeks
My heart sings words, I am unable to speak,
Words of far love, and deep admiration I do have
For all those who fought then... like my dad.

Now, as the old soldiers slowly fade away
With words of respect and reverent regard I try to say,
How much, like my missed father, they all mean to me-
For without their courage we'd never know the truth of liberty.

I believe I'll sit here awhile longer...
Allowing my heart and soul to grow a bit stronger,
Just sitting and praying by this old soldier's grave...
Hoping to become more like him: good, bold, and brave.

Together we shall sing along
This, our favorite song:
God Bless America, again -
God, please do bless all those, past and future, just like him.