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Viet Nam Remembered
Posted by wfosterwelborn
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves for “Viet Nam Remembered”:
A few quiet moments,
Gazing at each name.
A moment of respect
In drizzling rain.
This polished black “V”
Gashed into the earth,
Names of dead recorded
Instead of birth.
As I stood there soaked
In beleaguered calm,
Recalling memories of buddies
In a place called Viet Nam.
I remember young faces,
Etched in grimy fear.
Muddy fatigues sagging,
Weighted down with gear.
Orange blossom napalm flashes,
Jellying up a hill.
Sweating soldiers cuss
While mustering their will.
Incoming rockets roar
Amidst bursting mortar shells,
No thought of Heaven
In this little piece of Hell!
Med-E-Vac choppers lift off,
Another wounded body gone.
Ashen-white face reveals
A friend left alone.
Maybe these inscribed names
Fit faces in my mind.
Scenes vivid and real
Forever enshrined.
Although it’s officially over,
Still there’s no end.
As I stand here quietly
With memories of friends.
Who has the answer,
Why we fought this war?
What did it accomplish?
What was it all for?
The answer now has become muted,
Grown hazy over time.
But you’ll never forget them
When you see their shrine.
Tags: answer, autumn leaves, Friends, Heaven, Hell, metaphysics, New Age, New Thought, poem, Poetry, shrine, soldiers, Thoughts, Truth, Viet Nam, Viet Nam Remembered, Viet Nam War Memorial, war, wisdom
Cowboy Heaven
Posted by wfosterwelborn
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
The cowboys are gone,
At least so I hear.
“Not so,” said my friend,
“Lend me your ear.”
Acting very quickly
On my friend’s good advice,
I went to Cowboy Heaven
And did a double take — twice.
The dance hall was crowded,
And, folks, I will swear
There were cowboys and cowgirls
Dancing everywhere.
One tall wrangler
Stood out so stark…
He wore a neon hatband
That glowed in the dark.
He wore an oilskin outbacker
That reached his boot tops.
He was sweating and stomping
To fast country pop.
Another short puncher
Cam shufflin’ along.
He was dressed up for dancin’
And bad-to-the-bone.
He wore a flannel checkered shirt
While his partner wore lace.
His huge belt buckle shone.
Mascara ran down her face.
Another wrangler came driftin’ by
Wearing sandals and socks.
He bellied up to the bar
And ordered Schnapps on the rocks.
It sounded like thunder
As boots shook the floor.
They did the Boot Scootin’ Boogie
And were anxious for more.
One huge cowgirl
Dancing and struttin’ around
Must have weighed in
At three hundred pounds.
She and her puncher
Were having a fling.
She was large enough
To rope steer with a string.
The music was so loud
My nerves were a-tingling.
This one rowdy romped by…
His spurs were a-jingling.
Cowboy Heaven, Do-si-dos,
Electric Slide, and Cotton-eyed Joe,
Achy Breaky, sweat and strain,
Cowboys and cowgirls feelin’ no pain.
The music slowed down…
You could even hear the tune.
Some crooner was singing
About a Neon Moon.
Why did I worry myself
About the cowboys being gone?
They’re all at the Cowboy Heaven,
And they’ve all found a home.
Posted in Uncategorized
Tags: autumn leaves, boots, cowboy, Cowboy boot, Cowboy Heaven, Dance hall, Dancing, Electric Slide, Heaven, home, music, Neon Moon, poem, Poetry, tune, wrangler