By J Ann Crowder
Titled helmet, chin down
’Tis recollections of a maddened, pale horse riding winds murmuring a spirited gust dimly echoed on rungs of bellfire red
Tossed into sprigs of pine overcoats—men taken in their last vow, with boots steadfastly on
Angels harrow sweet anthems to their vigilant bow
As they, soldiers valiant, climbed 'over the top’
One last round, arriving on lonely ledges—names sketched into glistening walls
No wincing in their eyes at rayless skies spelled a cauldron black—oh, fateful day!
Dispersing, ever were they, upon mordant scents, clutched within a ghostly, petrifying grip
A zone, inflamed with fiery stealth as hearts yelled against prowling bolts pressing rifting tides
’Tis our dignitaries thus hung
Rightly, we are thus compelled to sing of country free, lauding courage of men who met their final glory upon 'the third light’
We decorate their graves evermore—EVERMORE!
By and by, fireworks toll upon our lands as our visions carve our freedoms upon the blasts
Ardent moons arise, shadowing carnage, rising with brotherhood of men and their souls released to forging compasses glaring—thus, indulgent upon free waves
Such a moon's shredding light tassels our skins, burning our hearts bright as hot coals
Clean rains wash our sweet lands and we thank God such men lived—WE THANK GOD!
At heaven’s dawn, a dash of sun-sparkle streams through clouds, sullen and grey
Rainbows ignite our purple, bleeding mountains—yet, another season preserved in rectitude
The pale horse rides into clear, azure radiances above
As her silhouette shrinks into distances of glory, angel choirs lull peacefully upon our ears
Thus, we sallute her forevermore—FOREVERMORE!
Dedicated to our blessed Memorial Day. Written May 30th, 2016.