These are beautifully written poems by "Tommie" and they will definitely touch your heart and more than likely, you'll need a tissue. Please enjoy and you can find more listed when you visit Tommie's MySpace at the following address: http://www.myspace. com/ourheroespublications
Heroes Walk Among Us
Heroes walk among us
Though you wouldn't know
They certainly don't advertise
Nothing special shows
They seem to be so regular
Just like you and me
But Heroes walk amongst us
Just look around and see
The father with the child
Had just come home from war
It doesn't seem apparent
He's from the Marine Corps
He's visiting his family
While on leave from Iraq
Worries left behind for now
Until he must go back.
The woman at the gas station
The grey t shirt she wears
Printed on the front of it
ARMY this shirt bears
She doesn't say she is one
She actually says she's not
But in my eyes a Hero stands
Right here in this spot.
The boy who mowed the grass
Two summer years gone past
Had been fighting over there
A week before the last
His mother won't admit it
But the fear is in her eyes
She only wants her son back home
Not a Hero in disguise.
My father is a Hero
He said he knows many more
They fought right there beside him
In the Korean War.
The man down on the corner
Who holds the rusted can
Is one of our war Heroes
Who left behind the man
That he took over with him
To fight and keep us free
Now there is another Hero
That no one else can see
Heroes walk among us
The ones who kept us free
Though you may not notice it
They walk with you and me
Tommie
This is My Son
Have you seen my picture?
The one I received today
It is of my son
You know he is away?
Can you see his courage?
He needs to fight this war
Can you see his wonder?
Of what he's fighting for
My son, he is a soldier
He has a family
He fights to protect them
He fights to protect you and me
His wife, I know she misses him
They have a child you know
We pray he returns home soon
To watch his child grow
Have you seen my picture?
The one I have in my hand?
This is my son. This is my hero
My boy who has become a man.
Tommie
The Visions
Sleep will not come to my tired body
My tired mind
Each time I lay back and close my eyes
I become wide-awake
The visions behind my eyelids do that to me
Keep me from sleeping
These visions make my heart ache
Tears come to my eyes and I get up from my bed
They are too real, these visions
I walk through the house
Passing the sofa touching the pillows there
To the kitchen for a drink of water
Light shines in from the street lamp
I look out upon the shadows
Of a swing set in the backyard
The swings move gently in the wind
And I see my child upon the seat
I lean and touch the cold windowpane
And the child disappears
The tears fresh on my cheeks I turn to go back to bed
But when I pass the closed door I stop
My hand rests upon the knob
I know the room will be empty when I open it
This is my child's room and my child is no longer here
My heart aches to touch his hair again
To draw him close to me and feel his heart beat next to mine
To kiss his wounds better
To look at him sleeping in the bed beyond this door
Against my will I turn the knob and enter the room
In the darkness I see the shape of the furniture
The open closet door
I brush against the bed and I sit down
I lay my face against the pillow on the bed
I pull his covers around me and bury myself in them
I inhale his odor, my eyes closed tight
I feel him next to me it is as if he hadn't left
Until I open my eyes again and realize
My son can't be here
He has grown up and joined the Army
He is in another land now far from my arms
Fighting in a war
And the visions return
Tommie
Watched You
I watched you from the second
They placed you in my arms
Now I watch you go to war
I pray there comes no harm
I watched you pack your bags
I watched you put them on
I watched you board the bus
I'm trying to be strong
I watched you look at me
I watched you through my tears
Please God don't take away
This child I've watched all these years
I watched you to the last minute
I watched you pull away
I watched them take my boy to war
Please watch him too dear God I pray
Tommie
Don't Say to Me
It's going to be ok
It's going to be ok
Is this all that anyone knows to say
Did they send their child off to war
Do they know what my child is fighting for
Do they understand he might not come back
Do they know how many have died are they keeping track
It's going to be ok, it's going to be ok
The words I want to hear are your son is coming home today
Not it's going to be ok, it's going to be alright
I want to hear that my child no longer has to fight
Do they have special insight
Do they know that this is true
Do they have psychic abilities
A crystal ball or two
Or do they have connections
Better than a word of prayer
That will keep my son safe
While he's over there
It's going to be ok
Do they have proof of this
Aren't they normal people
Or is there something that I missed
I want it to be ok, I want it to be alright
I want my child to be in his own bed tonight
But until you have the proof
Of the words you say
Don't say to me one more time
It's going to be ok
Tommie
I Met a Soldier
Today I met a soldier
Who'd come home from the war
I could see that he'd been thinking
Of what he'd been fighting for
No one told him thank you
Or even shook his hand
No one seemed to care that
He was protecting our homeland
They asked him why he did it
Made him feel he might be wrong
To leave his home and fight for rights
In a land where he didn't belong
I touched him on the shoulder
And looked him in the face
And told him I appreciated
Him going to that place
That what he'd done was right
And that I truly cared
That he had been the one to go
He's my Hero I declared
The smile upon his face
The gleaming in his eyes
Told me what I said to him
Made him realize
That he had not fought in vain
That someone really cared
That he didn't waste his time
Fighting over there
Today I met a soldier
And hugged him close to me
I told him that I appreciated
Him going to keep me free
Tommie
612 Jefferson Street --- Richland, Washington 99352
(509) 943-4572 (509) 947-7426
E-mail: nrn9141@aol.com
Web site designed & hosted by JP (c) 2007 at Homestead TM
If I Ever Go To War
If I ever go to war Mom, please don't be afraid, there
are some things I must do to keep the promise I made.
I'm sure there will be some heartache and I know that
you'll cry tears, But your son is a MARINE now Mom,
There is nothing you should fear.
If I ever go to war Dad, I know that you'll be strong,
But you won't have to worry, cause you taught me
right from wrong. You kept me firmly on the ground,
yet still taught me how to fly, Your son is a MARINE
now Dad, I love you SEMPER FI.
If I ever go to war Bro, there are some things I want
to say, You've always had my back, and I know it's
my time to repay. You'll always be my daybreak,
through all of life's dark clouds, Your brother is a
MARINE now, Bro, I promise I'll make you proud.
If I ever go to war Friends, we'll never be apart,
Though we may not meet again, I'll hold you in my
heart. Remember all the times we had, do not let my
memory cease, Your friend is a MARINE now, Dear Friend
I will die to bring you peace.
And when I go to heaven, and see those pearly gates,
I will gladly decline entrance, I will stand my post and
wait. I am sorry I can't come in, I am sort of in a bind,
You see I'm still a MARINE, So I cannot leave my
comrades behind.
Author Unknown
I am a Marine's Mom
I proudly display my son's picture for all to see it is on the counter where I work, it is the most conspicuous on the wall at home.
I am the woman you see in line at the store who has an American Flag pin, a "My Son is a Marine pin", and a red, white & blue ribbon with the blue service star in the middle.
I am the person driving the car that is in front of you with the magnets that say "Support Our Troops", Proud Parent of a Marine, and a blue service star, a yellow ribbon attached to the top of my antenna.
I am the one with the grocery cart full of cereal bars, beef jerky, flavorings and additives for water, Twizzlers, Jolly Ranchers, and Skittles so my son and his fellow Marine brothers can have a little piece of home while in a strange and far away country.
I am the person you see carrying boxes to the Post Office so my son and his fellow Marine brothers know there are people in the states that support them.
I am the one you see with tears in my eyes whenever "The Star Spangled Banner" is played or sung before a ball game.
I am the one that has tears in my eyes when the Pledge of Allegiance to our flag is said.
When you see my son's picture when you come into my place of business and ask me who it is and where he is, please understand, this is MY SON.
Please do not tell me we shouldn't be there. We are there. Please do not tell me the latest injury reports, the casualties, bombings and shootings. I know this, it is always in the back of my mind Please do not tell me the war is because of the President. This is my son's boss. I will not speak ill of him for whatever reason. Please do not say that's its no place to be, my son is there, he's serving our country, he would rather be home safe with his family, but he has a duty. Please do not say "I'm sorry", I'M NOT, my son volunteered to protect his country. You should say, "You must be very proud of him."
Please do not tell me you know how I feel, unless you are a military parent, spouse, child, or fiancée, you have NO clue what I feel. Please just tell me "Your son is in my prayers." There can never be enough prayers going up for our military or my son or me.
I am the Mother of a Marine, this is my daily routine
Mentally calculating the time difference half way around the world. Accepting that my son is now MY protector. Reaching across the ocean with my love, hoping my son feels the extra boost. In the dead of night, waking up and saying a prayer for his safety and peace of mind. Never letting my son see the tears in my eyes or hear the catch in my voice whenever he leaves home or ends a phone call. Enduring those moments when I am not as strong as I think I should be.
Making it through each day by the grace of God. Opting to work extra hours or volunteer more than I used to trying to keep my mind occupied. Trying to smile even when I haven't heard from my son for days or weeks on end. Holding onto the Marine Corps motto of "Semper Fi", hoping I can keep the faith. Every second of every minute of every hour of every day, praying God is with my son and will bring him home to me safely. Rejoicing and shouting so all my coworkers know it is my son who is on the telephone.
written by Rhonda Elliott - 05/09/08
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This poem was written by two 10-year old Students at Maya Angelou Elementary in Pasco.
Today a Soldier Died
By Kai Ramos and Zech Peiffer
Today a soldier died. He stepped on a
Hidden mine. Yet no one will ever know
Except his family. It will be in no newspaper,
Commercial, or news program.
Instead some golfer stands with
More glory than an American soldier
Who died for us. Not a tear is shed
For his painful heart-wrenching death,
Yet not a tear is shed
For his family. He’s gone now with the
Souls of passed soldiers who were
Also forgotten.
TODAY A SOLDIER DIED
Soldiers
By Misty L.
Dedicated to the American soldiers, past and present, for their courage, honor, and dedication in protecting our nation. Thank you and God be with you.
They are born from all races,
And colors of skin.
They are born into brotherhood,
No boundaries within.
They are men and women,
From all ends of the earth.
They are sisters and brothers,
Not tied by their birth.
They are each their own person,
Yet they stand as one.
They march into battle,
Until the battle is won.
They protect the walls of our country,
That we may sleep at night.
They are trained to be heroes,
They are trained to fight.
To fight for our freedom,
As much as their own.
To fight for their country,
Of mortar and stone.
They stand tall with dignity,
Honor and pride.
They chose to be soldiers,
So we need not hide.
They are American soldiers,
With each living breath.
They are American soldiers,
Even after their death.
And unto these soldiers,
My life is in debt.
They have given me choices,
I will never forget.
Without them I would not be here,
With tears in my eyes.
Thanking God for their courage,
Of risking their lives.
Thanks be to the soldiers,
Of this nation, my home.
And know in your hearts,
You are never alone.
Real Heroes Don't Wear Capes
By Lauren Dean
Comic books and television tell us that heroism comes from heroes in bright costumes. With names like "Superman," "Wonder Woman," and "Spiderman," these kinds of heroes get all the adoration and front-page regard any person could ever want. Real heroes do not get any of the acknowledgement or recognition that they deserve. They are out there every day saving us from evil and we often forget they even exist. They model excellent, true heroism everyday that fictional characters strive to imitate.
Heroism is signing away five to eight years of your life to go wherever and do whatever your country asks of you. You must leave your family and friends behind to go fight a faceless enemy half a world away. You will have to miss almost every holiday and special occasion in your family's life, but fighting is what you feel like you have to do. You must be ready on any given day to give something you are not willing to part with, your life.
Heroism is risking your life every day to fight for the freedoms of other people who often times do not even seem to appreciate it. Every day you have to eat dehydrated food that is barely recognizable because it is so far away from its original form. The place you call home is a metal storage unit that you must share with several other men. You feel like one of the lucky ones because you have access to working showers once a week and three flushing toilets shared by a platoon of men.
Heroism is staying up until two a.m., so you can call your family back in the states at a reasonable time even though you have duty again at six a.m.. You tell them that you are doing okay today and that the story on the news was not near where you are, even though it was. When you do finally get to talk to your mom or wife, all you can talk about is how excited you are because the mess hall got in two cases of pickles. It is the only good thing to report from this lifeless desert.
Heroism is feeling lost when you finally get your two weeks of "R & R" back in the states. Everyone is talking about who won American Idol and you just try to remember what watching TV is like. The highlight of your day back home is being able to microwave your food instead of eating it cold. You feel out of sorts because here you can drink water until you explode instead of still feeling thirsty after drinking the last drop of your daily ration of water.
My heroes do not wear capes; they wear camo. They do not fly; they walk. They do not have "spidey sense"; they have common sense. They are not bulletproof; they can only stop a bullet once. These heroes are American soldiers and they exercise authentic heroism seven days a week, three hundred sixty five days a year including holidays. They do not get a day off, because terrorists never sleep. They deserve so much more respect and appreciation than any of us give them. Next time you see one of these camo-clad heroes, take the time to say "thank you". They deserve it and so much more.
A Soldier Died Today
He was getting old and paunchy
and his hair was falling fast,
and he sat around the Legion,
telling stories of the past.
Of a war that he once fought in
and the deeds that he had done,
In his exploits with his buddies;
they were heroes, every one.
And 'tho sometimes to his neighbors
his tales became a joke,
all his buddies listened quietly
for they knew where of he spoke.
But we'll hear his tales no longer,
for ol' Bob has passed away,
and the world's a little poorer
for a Soldier died today.
He won't be mourned by many,
just his children and his wife.
for he lived an ordinary,
very quiet sort of life.
He held a job and raised a family,
going quietly on his way;
and the world won't note his passing,
'tho a Soldier died today.
When politicians leave this earth,
their bodies lie in state,
while thousands note their passing,
and proclaim that they were great.
Papers tell of their life stories
from the time that they were young,
but the passing of a Soldier
goes unnoticed, and unsung.
Is the greatest contribution
to the welfare of our land,
some jerk who breaks his promise
and cons his fellow man?
Or the ordinary fellow
who in times of war and strife,
goes off to serve his country
and offers up his life?
The politician's stipend
and the style in which he lives,
are often disproportionate,
to the service that he gives.
While the ordinary Soldier,
who offered up his all,
is paid off with a medal
and perhaps a pension, small.
It is not the politicians
with their compromise and ploys,
who won for us the freedom
that our country now enjoys.
Should you find yourself in danger,
with your enemies at hand,
would you really want some cop-out,
with his ever waffling stand?
Or would you want a Soldier--
his home, his country, his kin,
just a common Soldier,
who would fight until the end.
He was just a common Soldier,
and his ranks are growing thin,
but his presence should remind us
we may need his kind again.
For when countries are in conflict,
we find the Soldier's part,
is to clean up all the troubles
that the politicians start.
If we cannot do him honor
while he's here to hear the praise,
then at least let's give him homage
at the ending of his days.
Perhaps just a simple headline
in the paper that might say:
"OUR COUNTRY IS IN MOURNING,
A SOLDIER DIED TODAY."
