I am not a poet. In general, I'm not even what one would call a poetry fanatic, connoisseur, lover...etc. I do LIKE some poetry, but primarily the story-telling kind--or Alfred Noyes, "The Admiral's Ghost". That and Longfellow's "Paul Revere's Ride" are my favorite poems.
Anyway, all that to say, I have actually penned two or three poems myself. Nothing spectacular, but I have. I found the two that I remember writing while clawing through my junk the other day. I was trying to clean up, sort, and throw out stuff in my room across the creek and I found these...in my art box of all places.
I thought you might be interested to see my two puny pieces of literary genius that formed themselves into poetry.
I wrote both of these three to six years ago, but I wrote this one first:
Anyway, all that to say, I have actually penned two or three poems myself. Nothing spectacular, but I have. I found the two that I remember writing while clawing through my junk the other day. I was trying to clean up, sort, and throw out stuff in my room across the creek and I found these...in my art box of all places.
I thought you might be interested to see my two puny pieces of literary genius that formed themselves into poetry.
I wrote both of these three to six years ago, but I wrote this one first:
The Boy of 1776
He defies those who say he is wrong.
He stands fast against that noisy throng.
He declares the truth and disowns retreat.
His eyes gleam with a blazing reflection of his spirit.
He cares not how they bleat,
For he is certain of where he stands.
And no one, no, not a single soul can
remove this glowing strength and pride.
Young he is, but sure and true to the glorious
cause within his breast.
For this cause he determines to willing sacrifice his all.
The second is longer and is entirely fictional...though I suppose something like it could have occurred. I could never think up a good title for this one, so it remains title-less. If you think of a good one, drop me a line in the comment section and I'll consider it. :)
They stood, ready. Bodies tense, hearts quickly beating.
"Steady! Hold on boys!"
The order came quietly ringing down the ranks.
They held firm, tense.
A lad stood taunt, his hands tightening,
then relaxing 'round his rifle.
Deeply breathing, striving to stay calm;
he wasn't alone, he knew
in this nocturnal trench terror.
Closing his eyes, he prayed,
"Father, make me brave."
A steady tramp was heard;
all eyes began to strain into the oppressive dark anew.
Rifles began shifting, breath became short,
then steadied as the hours of practice kicked in.
Artillery roared and the fight commenced.
Our land had been grazed by an enemy bullet,
yet he knew it not.
He worked the bolt on his rifle, a slight smile upon his lips,
a dull gleam within his eyes.
All fear had left him, his life was not his,
but his God's and his Country's.
A lull in the loud crash of arms.
The young lieutenant lifted his head, listening.
Down the line, off on the left flank, came a sound.
A cheerful sound amid the turmoil of war.
One lone voice shrilly, comfortingly,
whistling a popular tune.
"Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition."
The Colonel, wounded as he was,
his left arm tied tight with a tourniquet,
suddenly sprang toward the top of the trench, shouting,
"Praise the Lord, Pass the Ammunition...Charge!"
They swept the fleeing enemy before them,
the result of a strong peaceful faith in God Almighty.
Though many died that night, yet any more lived on,
beating overwhelming odds,
to the tune of the soldier's song.
Therefore, whether your battle be physical or spiritual,
always remember to
"Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition!"
So there you have it. I have no idea what meter or whatever these may or may not fall under, but I poured my tiny abilities into them.
I hope you enjoyed them!
I hope you enjoyed them!
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