Robert Tannahill

(1774-1810 / Franklin, Illinois, USA)

(our Veterans) An Observation And Thought

Poem by Robert Tannahill

We once were many and now we are few.
As strands of our graying heads thin and fall to the ground,
So passes the veterans, "our comrades."
Home to their appointed destiny.
Falling from our freedom's ranks to the dust of mother earth's loving embrace.
They pass with a fervent prayer that this worlds's freedoms will live on through all eternity,
Forever stay in place --May God Bless All Veterans--

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Read poems about / on: destiny, freedom, mother, home, god

Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 2, 2003