Life According to Mom

LIFE ACCORDING TO MOM

As beauty is in the eye of the beholder,
So are the poems in my little folder.
A private journal in rhyming verse.
Could be better, could be worse.
It’s what I’ve seen and heard and done,
Sorrow, laughter, tears and fun.
If  you don’t like it, don’t be rash
And throw this book into the trash.
You can always put it in the john.
(Though I won’t like it.)
Love, Mom

LEST WE FORGET

We send our boys away to war
With a kiss, a tear, and a prayer,
We wave the flag and watch them leave
From land and sea and air.

So many faces young and fresh
Will find their future gone,
Left upon a field of blood
Some far off distant dawn.

War leaves a mark on the soldiers
Who survive another day,
Yet their victory is so bittersweet
When by their buddy’s grave.

So when you see Old Glory
Waving in the wind,
Remember those who left that day
And will not return again.

Yes, remember those young faces
That will never live to see,
The wages of the price they paid
For others to be free.