Snow Angels
by
Walter Jones
(Age: 63)
copyright 01-08-2004
Age Rating: 1 to 127
Picture Credits:
Authors note: Upon this earth many died so others could live. Seldom do we dance in their honor. Mostly we have forgotten where and when they fell, saddly why?
Oh night and day are in the meadow
so far away from all the love I know
Inside my eyes I see the marrow
born of love there is now sorrow
Just step away from the window
I feel you so close to me I cry
Hear gun fire it's warning
bread floats upon the river
last of us make the crossing
to the land of milk and honey
Oh night and day are in the meadow
so far away from the the love I know
My hands curse the dawning
deep inside the longing
I know you feel me deep inside
horse in the desert lonely ride
Salt of water flowing down my brow
saw the clouds exploding rain pouring down
Oh night in day are in the meadow
so far away from the love I know
Here the promise of dreams long ago
path worn deep I will be the last to go
felt his hand upon the back
pain lifted as we track
Which is the answer
who is laying in the snow
Oh night in day are in the meadow
my love buried deep beneath the snow
War and death suround me
from this world I will go
Children dance upon the graves
of the brave so long ago
Tribute to our fathers
angels made in the meadow
in freshly fallen snow
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i like this poem alot i used to made snow angels one christmas at my grandads house and he cried and said i was a good girl because i had made angels in rememberance of people who had died in the war....his friend the only companions he had in his time of terror, yet bravory...thanks for reminding me of that. this is a very good tribute
Walter,
This reminded me of the stories I used to hear from both sides of my family--one of which was in the holocaust and Russian pogroms, the other Indian who spoke of wars and tales and the Trail of Tears. I've heard so many stories of them in my family, yet their bravery seems to be forgotten...such as a woman who hid our family in Russia, a Catholic who swore upon the Mother Mary that there were no Jews in her house. She helped us be free. Or in Germany, the tale I was told of a man dressed in a Nazi uniform who snuck my great aunt onto a ship to America and gave them papers saying they were Christian. It is not only the warriors, but those who do what they mean to in their own way who deserve to be remembered and danced too as well.