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Tuesday

The Folded Flag

His Mother held the folded flag,
It was a somber day.
A mosaic of tears and memories,
As she heard the bugler play

The last song for a soldier,
As she held his folded flag
And memories of the letter
He wrote her from Ft. Bragg.

He wrote, "Please Mom, don't worry.
I have to see this through
Make your world a safer place.
It's something I just had to do!

It's not just Nine-Eleven Mom,
That stirred my warrior soul,
Not screaming words of Jihad,
A hero's words, "Let's Roll!"

Scenes of Dark September, Mom,
As people fell like snow.
For me, it was the tattered flag
Raised high...at Ground Zero.

Remember how I waved her Mom
When I was only ten?
I waved and waved her on The Fourth,
And Veterans Day...waved her again!

It was the words that grandpa said,
"She stands for all that's true.
Her red is for the blood men shed.
Son, that's what soldiers do!

Guard her well and wave her high.
Let no one treat her bad.
Honor the men who died for her,
They gave her all they had.

A gift of home and family,
Golden memories as they grew old.
A fine young grandson...like I have.
Son, Freedom's bought....not sold!"

So Mom, If I should pay the price
To keep her waving high,
And you receive the folded flag-
Mom, be proud of me.....don't cry!

Place my flag on grandpa's shelf
With his medals from World War II
And the folded flag.....he got last year
That grandma gave to you."

His Mother held the folded flag.
It was a somber day.
She placed it high on "grandpa's shelf",
Then bowed her head to pray.


By, Marsha Burks Megehee
In deepest respect for America's Gold Star Mothers


I received this in email and it was accredited to Marsha Burks Megehee. I was unable to find this poem on her site, although I did find many wonderful poems there. Check out Marsha's site here.

1 comments:

alex said...
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