Tom Zart Poems

A nations wealth is not it's wheat, oil or gold
But the people who live there both young and old.
Their wealth is a product of mans daily toil
Be they swing wars saber or plow God's soil.
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It's a time of plenty and a time for prayer
A time for families to gather and share.
It's a time to remember those pilgrims past
A time to celebrate life, while it last.
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In the still dark early morning hours
Westport's bakers begin their God given craft.
Creating life's most mouthwatering pastries
Which make us feel fortified as we socialize and laugh.
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AMERICAN SOLDIER

It's not a priest that gives us our freedom of religion
And it's not a reporter that gives us our freedom of voice.
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Darling I love you with all of my heart and soul
Much more than any of God's blessings on Earth.
It's hard to believe Heaven planned it this way
For your love for me is far beyond my worth.
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Sometimes it's hard to protect what is right
Sometimes we're scorned as for others we fight.
Some of us are willing regardless of loss
To commit our soul to save the cross.
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The storms of life come to everyone
There are none who are immune.
Some approach in our later years
While others come to soon.
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SEPTEMBER 11th

After suffering the wrath of a sneak attack
America now mourns to her very core.
Though soon her enemies shall all but flee
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FREEDOM

In their new uniforms
The young march off
Not knowing who shall return.
With a proud devotion
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It's not a priest that gives us our freedom of religion
And it's not a reporter that gives us our freedom of voice.
It's not any judge, lawyer, politician, or teacher
But the blood of a soldier that has sacrific
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