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HEART VERSES OF FAYE SIZEMORE
CIVIL WAR POEMS
POW MIAS
Charles Gale Dusing POW
THE WALL
Other Side of The Coin
POW MIA OPERATION IRAQI FREEDOM
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Poems By Faye

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Little Brother
 
I know you are here somewhere
lain to rest among the fallen foe
Help me to find his grave before I go
The war is over ... I am going home alone
My brother will stay here..his life is gone
I have promised our dear mother
to lay a wreath on his grave
...a very last gift to my brother
a sign of our grief and of love ...a token
Mother`s poor heart was broken
when the news came that he fell
at Gettysburg in that battle of Hell
I was there ... I remember it well
Johnny...my brother... I always loved you
In spite of all our trials... I know you knew
I must go home bearing our mother sad news
It will be a hard thing I must do this day
...standing before her in my uniform of grey
telling her ...my little brother...that you...
...are buried in a uniform of blue
 
©Faye Sizemore ©9/16/03

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Moonlight March In Dixie

 

Awakening with a start
Sweating hands…
And wildly beating heart
Noises in the night
Peering out my window
I beheld a sight….
Up the gravel road where it winds…
Just before it disappears in the pines
A rag tag line of soldiers
Was marching through the night
Tattered suits of grey and blue
Were intertwined winding
Through the evening dew
The ghostly moon overhead
Showed the living keeping
Step with the dead….
Walking with makeshift crutches
Bandages encircling head
Some walking, some riding
Not one in a hurry…
Their time they were biding
Smelling of sweat and blood
And smoke from ancient campfires…
Muted I hear a song
Helping each other
Tenderly along
Through the window wafted
The sound of many voices singing
I thought I heard
“Dixie’s” mournful sound…
Then “Battle hymn Of the Republic” ringing
Slowly they came…
Hundreds and thousands
Too many to name
Marching slowly past
And I knew…
Brothers had found
Brothers at last…

©Faye Sizemore
March 2002

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Dancin` Drummer Boy
 
Dancin` barefoot in the rain
To the music of life
There is no gain
If there is no strife
Bare feet dance me home
To the southern lands where I belong
Where the evening dew is sweet
Where time and melody meet
Where the cannon does not sound
Where death it does not abound
Hearing the screams of the dying
Inside my soul now I am crying
I`m just the drummer boy
And this war is now my toy
But I`ll beat this drum
As long as the troops come
The colorbearer, he has been shot down
I`ll not let the colors touch the ground
I can drum for the soldiers with just one hand
With the other I can carry the flag of my land
My drumming can be heard no more
I have been dipped in the blood of war
Fiftteen and I`m finally going home
Take off my boots before I there roam
Softly now on all falls the rain
It seems to wash away my pain
I`ll drum songs of war no more
For all my troubles now are  o`er
Bare feet dance me home
 to the southern lands where I belong
Where the evening dew is sweet
And time and melody meet
Dancin`barefoot in the rain
Rememberin` the music of life
There is no gain
If there is no strife
©Faye Sizemore   September182002

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Cotton to Silk

Cotton flag… colors in the rain…
Colors… dripping…
Colors like blood
Summon back the pain.
Cotton won’t unfurl
And fly in the wind…
Cotton’s too heavy
And always has been…

We hang our heads in shame…
There are soldiers
Who need loosed from their chain…
Cotton…
Cotton pain…
The old south wore a suit of grey…
That was long ago… on another day…
A soldier deserves respect…
And this could be one way…
Make his flag with silk…
Cotton…
What do you say?
Because of its weight…
Cotton won’t unfurl in the wind…
Not soaked with blood, tinged with hate…
Cotton was king…
Lost its crown…
The cotton mills are closing down.
Cottons leaving this old town…
Jobs are scarce, but they’ll get along…
Cotton…
Go on down…
Cotton was likely the root of the sin.
Taught men to be brutal to men…
Black… and… white…
Brothers and sisters will tell you…
Cottons` too heavy…
And always has been…

At the Confederate Memorial,
Let’s raise, on the pole,
A flag of silk
So it will fly in the wind.
Cottons` too heavy…
Always has been…

With the flag’s raising, send forgiveness…
Let love replace the hate
And let peace in…
Let old times be forgotten…
Cotton was heavy…
Let go… of the weight…

©Faye Sizemore
February 01, 2002

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