Saturday, May 17, 2008


A Return Home.
The mother holds her precious daughter
praying for the return of the loving father
He wares his cross close to his heart
and watches while all hope falls apart
The enemy is gaining all sense of powerand
he misses his family more by the hour
to make it home alive is his only thought
while he’s dodging the sounds of shot after shot
He wants to wrap his baby girl tight in his arms
to protect her, and his family from all harms
But he a soldier has duty to the call
and will fight to the end, though the end might prove small
Tears flow from his eyes though a man he may be
as he looks at his companions who can no longer breath
as he grasps his cross tightly in his fist
he runs into dark deep mist
determined to make it home
But he cannot make it alone.
His men are scattered all over the ground,
the bombs are everywhere yet he cant here a sound.
His heart is set on his little girls face,
As he runs for cover in this cold and forbidden place.
One second he’s there the next he is gone.
He awakes into light, as if the light was switched on.
Surrounded by loved ones and his relieved family,
He wakes up to find what he prayed he’d live to see.
He had fallen in the dark and the enemy had withdrawn.
The war had ended just when all hope was gone.
No one quite knew how he stayed alive.
Something greater than weapons had helped him survive.
Now he is home, and safe from all harm,
Holding his new baby with his uninjured arm.

I found this .. a poem I had written a while ago. And I thought someone might like to read it, tell me what you think.

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We can do no great things, only small things with great love <3

-Mother Theresa