Ronald Strickland Poems

Sent to a land with a language that I could not understand,
the people, with a culture, with interest,
why should they be an enemy?
This is what I was to translate,
...

Gazing through weary eyes are heroes
from wars that have gone by.
A war that has passed in time,
wars come, with each leaving it's
...

I fell asleep pondering over
visions of love and the comfort
it gave me.
The adventures that
...

All through my day,
I think of you.
I miss you with each passing moment,
longing for your conversation,
...

From the sugar cane fields,
along a dusty dirt road,
in a small house in Georgia.
To the cotton mills of Dalton,
...

Today in the meadow, I saw you
as you were picking wildflowers.
Your beauty I saw as you knelt
and gave me a gentle touch.
...

As I viewed through the window,
I could see my cousin
as she walked into the Garden.
She joined with a friend there
...

At a point in life,
something good may happen.
If it's good,
do I change anything about it?
...

I was awoken by the sound of heavy cold winter rain
as it echoed its loud song that the day belonged
to those who would dare have a need to be in its grasp.
Curtains danced & fluttered about
...

Some I know,
the rest only by name.
Some of you were brought home.
Some of you never came.
...