More Poems

Storm Warning

"Thunder storm warning,"
the weather radio just said

I saw that look in his eyes eyes
I knew the thoughts in his head
In the distance thunder is heard
I know to a jungle land
He is now transferred
What remembered visions
do these sounds bring
What tortured memory is called
up by the thunder`s ring
Of these I can not know
I only know he is haunted,
each time it storms ,more so...

©Faye Sizemore May2002

Shadows Arrive

Carolina moonlight filters thru the pines
Whippoorwills call…it is evening time…
The coming shadows are lengthening…
Awakening… memories in his mind.
I see in his eyes… the pain of the years,
Pain I cannot share… nor bathe with my tears…
Memories, with no place to run, no place to hide,
Perhaps with an answer, in peace, he could abide.

He remembers their smile, the line of their face.
He knows he’ll not see them again…
At least… not in this place.
He remembers their cries when they fell…
Even though…. years ago… in that place of hell…

Someone, please …tell him why…
His brothers, his buddies, their blood ran red.
He can’t forget…he won’t forget…
In war… there was no time for good-bye…

©Faye Sizemore
December 22, 2001

Old Warriors

Old warriors…
Sit by your fire
And counsel…
Counsel the young braves…
Who will enter the
Battle at this stage…

Old warriors
Who have gone before…
You have pointed the way…
You have opened the door…

Old warriors…
Your gift to them is courage
To carry to
Where the battles rage…

Old warriors…
You have transfused
Them with the steel from your veins…

Your voices they’ve heard…
As thunder when it’s loud…

Old warriors…

Sit proud…

©Faye Sizemore
January 31, 2002

B. Davis...Cloud Rider

Cloud rider mounted
on the wings of morning
Seen from afar in an azure sky
Ever to be gone
and never more returning
Fires of your grandeur
are still burning
Was there ever
a brighter shown light
That flamed in the darkest night
Light from a hero's heart glowed
And through three wars it flowed
Rest well beloved old soldier
Your trials of war are over
Soar on cloud rider above
Leaving here below
your legacy of love
You flew the skies with the brave
And forever will your banner wave

Your life was a celebration
and in seeking your honor
you brought honor to a nation

General Benjamin O. Davis Jr., USAF
12/18/1912 - 7/4/2002

©Faye Sizemore August 2002

The Scythe Tree

A farmer boy did answer the call to war
He hung his scythe in a cottonwood tree
Little did he know he`d not need it any more
Around it for years the tree did grow
It cradled his scythe just so
A monument to a brave Union soldier
Who never came home and this is why
He was captured and so did die
in South Carolina in a confererate infirmery
His scythe in New York still remains in the tree
though only the tip of it you now can see
a salute to brave James W. Johnson
who fought for all people to be free
And this soldier was not to be the last one
Years later World War One was raging on
Alongside James`es the boys also hung their scythes
And to fight in a foreign land they were gone

The tree still stands through the summers and ice
A living tribute to brave soldiers gone to war
May it stand in remembrance forevermore

©Faye Sizemore September62002

The tree in this poem still stands in Waterloo,New York,
As do alot of similiar scythe trees around America,a
A living tribute to common men who put aside everyday
life to fight for freedom...

‘Your Mamma Wears Combat Boots!’

That was the loud taunt of the bully bunch
Little Billy turned and he put down his lunch
Anyone there could see that he was so scared
But in a fifth grade bully bunch no one cared
Trembling he said, “No, she does not!”
Stood his ground glued to the spot

Jerry had watched and held back as long as he could
He went and stood by Billy because he knew he should
He grinned as he faced the school bully and his crowd
To them he began to speak in a voice steady and proud

They stepped back as the speaker stepped forward
As they listened their gazes began to be lowered

He said, “Fellas, MY mother DOES wear combat boots
She’s made of the stuff that formed this country’s roots
Always there as trouble comes upon the scene
I’m proud my mother is a United States Marine!”

©Faye Sizemore
October 01, 2002

Tarnished Soldier

               Dug in a foxhole
             catching forty winks
            My pardner that night
              Keeping the watch
        Awakened to a hell of a sight
       Boots all stood around the edge
         with rifles all pointing down
          In their eyes could be read
             If they had been enemy
             we would both be dead
               Looked over at him
            son of a bitch was asleep

          Caught up into a firefight
           when the firing stopped
         Fella was no where in sight
             well,I`ll be dammed
       He was back behind some trees
           Where the hell were you
            'LT., My rifle jammed'
           Sure, you son of a bitch
        Lt.Took the said jammed rifle
              LT,fired it in the air
          Sounds echoed everywhere
             No jammed rifle there

           Lt.turned to us and said
          'Runs like a rabbit again
          I want him treated as such'
        We weren`t thrilled too much
            We looked at each other
           Was said soldier a brother
             or an enemy among us
          We were all knowing then
           he was unworthy of trust
          He`d never finish his hitch
               Went without saying
                That son of a bitch

       ©Faye Sizemore November182002

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