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Distance  High

I watched him walk away.
War awaited his service.
His Bible in his hand,
Would travel with him to
A distant land.

His wife and child did not
Take his absence mild.
Pacing and prayers often
Said, The chapters of the
Holy book, many times read.

He wrote home when he could,
Fought many battles, somehow
He knew his last day before the
Battle Hit.
It broke his families
Hearts bit by bit.

He did return, but not alive,
Very few from his division
Survived.

Today I Hand his daughter his
First Bible, a promise I made
To him before she was born.
It's pages a little worn, but not
One page is torn.

She looked at me with tearful
Eyes her grief, my grief was
No disguise.

His First Bible passed to his
Oldest child to carry on.
A part of him remains, even
Though he's gone.

The Air Force is the branch
She serves,  I watch her walk
Away, her watchful eyes, in
Times of peace, watchful Eye,
from the open sky.
(As her Father before her, she
Soars in distance high)










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Distance High