Freedom Isn't Free

First of all, if haven't read my first Memorial Day post, I have selected a few songs that are appropriate for Memorial Day. I have added them to my play list on the side bar, just click on the arrow to start the music. This is a very special post for me. The reason being that I am dedicating it in the loving memory of two very dear friends, who are no longer with us. Herb Wedewen, a WWI Veteran. Herb served in France during WWI. He was also a musician with the gift of writing his own music. I loved listening to him play his music on his old upright piano. Was was a wonderful gifted gentleman. Sean Mc Kelvy was a WWII Veteran that also was gifted with a special talent. The talent of taking what was in his heart and putting it into words in the form of poetry. The following poem was written by Sean. The world is a better place because Herb and Sean walked among us.

The War Monument

Shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand

With heads bowed over this hallowed land

Tall, gaunt, giant spirits stand

Remembering cannon and marching band.

"We waited till the enemy closed,

Then we fired, they were disposed

That was the tact at Bunker Hill

I remember the screaming horses still

A graveyard now of unconquered will"

"We had dug deep protective trenches,

The enemy in our sights, only inches.

Then the smell of new mown hay

And the deadly smell of mustard spray

They carried so many of us away"

"When moving through the jungle vines

Watch every step for hidden mines

When each step may be your last

Now tangled memories of the past,

Solemn flags flown half-mast"

Hear these stories the veterans tell

Of midnight fires and smoky hell

Their common cry is "No defeat"

But with apathy they can't compete

History of actions incomplete

The veteran spirits gather here

To whisper of war and yesteryear

This is where their spirits stand

Shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand.

Poetry by Sean Mc Kelvy

All rights reserved under copyright laws

IN FLANDERS FIELDS

In Flanders fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row,

That mark our place; and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days agoWe lived,

felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie,

In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders fields.

by: John McCrae

God 's Blessings be on all that has served our country and are serving now.

~Jo