The Great Man Poem by Howard Long

On that night the wind blew sharp- the cold, a crisp cut sheet.
While waves played toss with oaken boats and ships of ice.
Musketted men fell row on row in rickety boats of wood.
While one, above all, stood as of iron, the wind a passing fancy.
He stood at the bow as a mountain, indomitable as the stars.
His presence calmed the seas of men and strengthened childlike hearts.
The bow smacked wave on wave as you move on to the battle at hand.
The starlike man stood at his post, never given to fear.
His men followed on and won victory that day.
While mothers cried and fathers moaned, on the bodies of the waiting souls.

That man still stands, forever at the bow, beckoning all to follow him into the waves of hell.
To face your fears and leave your struggles, to help the weak and serve the poor.
And when torment's through, eternal rest remains for you