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A MARCH TO GLORY
In a frozen clime Only memories now enshrine Out of the night a bugle call Fire and ice the advance did stall Many the unsung deed So common because of need Up and across the mountain trace More cold and enemy yet to face Steel and flesh into the maw No release until winters thaw Clash of arms in the night The morning sun a thankful sight Motion and spirit often retarded The foe in action disregarded Mile on mile each claiming a fee Finally, finally ships on the sea It was every man's story Unknowingly a march to Glory Rick Seward E-2-5 |
DUTY CALLS
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YET ENDED In the rustle of the leaves, and crispness of autumn air You see and hear the goodbyes of summer The gold and browns of Oak and Aspen herald The not so welcome start of winter A first chill of morning stirs the haunts of an old memory boldly proud, deathly sad. From behind graying temples panoramas edge their way Through the years, recalling Wood smoke in the air, snowflakes silent as light, Drifting in the mud ruts in a road never quite forgotten. A holiday dinner in a miniature classroom, a foxhole for an easy chair, with a cigar and friend. Aroma of turkey in the oven, again a holiday, pumpkin pie And chestnuts or powder of first snow All ignite the flame of fraternity. When first it happened was a long time ago ... but not for those who were there. From the chill of that long ago winter came the Men from Chosin. Beginning a shared experience . not yet ended. Rick Seward E-2-5 |