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Why Do We Stand?

I'll Always Be There!

I Feel Just Like a Baby!

That's Life!

That's Life!



War is Hell

Oh! Where did it all go?

Untitled

Disrespect?

'OH! My,my,my!"

Warriors

Disrespect!

Beware!

Untitled

Forgive and Forget?

So Why Should I?

Fifty Years Later

All in a DAY

A Warrior's Soul

"Good Life"

"If"

My Only Son

GONE!

"American Pie"

War is Hell!

Daream Catcher

Time is a Thief!

Ode to T/Sgt. Glenn Wilson

Never To Late!

CHANGE

NOTHING EVER CHANGES

Time

More Poetry >>

The Autumn of Nineteen Forty Eight

The cool autumn wind blows
as the golden oak leaves fall
beyond the cracked and broken wall.
The hot winds of summer are gone.
The early morning bell at old Smith-Cotton gongs.
The covered bridge over flat creek still stands,
passerby’s marvel and clap their hands.
Children scamper and frolic in the fresh autumn air,
awaiting the first day of the county fair.
The pumpkin lay golden, ready and ripe.
The corn stalks are stacked neat and tight.
Things seemed to move slower and people took their time.
Life made sense and possessed rhythm and rhyme.
The roses were big and red on the bush that
climbed on the garden gate.
Life was simple and just great in the
Autumn of Nineteen Forty Eight.




          





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The Autumn of Nineteen Forty Eight


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