A soldier is boots.
There not spit shinny.
BLOOD-cause-reason-GOLD.
Yet we all grow old.
VALLEY FORGE-ORLEANS-ALAMO
GETTYSBURG-MARNE-BULGE-MY LAI-NOW..
CHER said, ' THE BEAT GOES ON '.
Sit back and memory 's list.
Dead soldier friends last WHISPER - MOM.
Some count the GOLD - others get new SOLES.
SO - THE BEAT GOES ON.
ORCHARD of WHITE STONES
**** WHAT WILL THEY GROW****
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
The poem itself is almost war-like, especially when the emphasis of the words in caps kick in. Good job
Freedom is what grows from the orchard of white stones...very good visual.
Joseph, the metaphor is powerful - soldiers are boots in all the ordinary meanings, trodden on, worn down, lost, ruined and traded-in. The glory goes somewhere else... Rgds, Ivan
Remembering all those who laid down their lives - I could hear the Left n the Right And see the cloud of dust rise ORCHARD of WHITE STONES **** WHEN WILL THEY GROW**** PEACE, FULL BLOWN? ... After seeing this many Wars When will Mankind Wage a War against War? Thoughtful and thought provoking Sad the fate of the men who died For nothing were many wars waged!
I like the way you scratch the paper and the vibrations it makes. love Dónall Dónall
War has been going on as long as there have been people. Some wars make sense, fighting for our freedom, and others do not. But it's part of life, unfortunately. Good poem. Best Wishes, Marilyn
Obviously one all-out American poem, this one, as even in the rest of the other world one can read!
'orchards of white stones'...they grow memories of loss and questions of justice...fantastic piece.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
meaningful poem. i like it.