White Cliffs of Dover- Freedom isn’t free.
I have a rendezvous with Death–
At some disputed barricade,
When Spring comes back with rustling shade
And apple-blossoms fill the air—
I have a rendezvous with Death
When Spring brings back blue days and fair.
It may be he shall take my hand
And lead me into his dark land
And close my eyes and quench my breath—
It may be I shall pass him still.
I have a rendezvous with Death
On some scarred slope of battered hill,
When Spring comes round again this year
And the first meadow-flowers appear.
God knows ’twere better to be deep
Pillowed in silk and scented down,
Where love throbs out in blissful sleep,
Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,
Where hushed awakenings are dear . . .
But I’ve a rendezvous with Death
At midnight in some flaming town,
When Spring trips north again this year,
And I to my pledged word am true,
I shall not fail that rendezvous.
The White Cliffs of Dover
My father left my world this year. A WW2 veterans, he stood with his brothers. He went willingly and he knew the cost, could be.
Today my world confuse and ugly. We are finding differently in each other and forgetting the sameness we are.
Like my grandfather, like my father. I volunteered and befriended great men and women. Some of my good friends came home wrapped in the USA flag. Us soldiers didn’t see color and we would fight back to back. Share our pain, share our whiskey and share laughter and joy.
Once I was blessed. I saw the White Cliffs of Dover. I felt the spirit of cheering men welcoming the dirt of England on their feet. I remember when us soldiers spoke of home. We missed the forest, the sea and the faces of people waiting for us to return. I hated fishing and now I fish for my Northern Michigan friend. He told me often. I miss my Northern Michigan and I will fish for weeks, when I returned home. I go fishing with my grandchildren and I hope my good friend. Find peace with the soldiers somewhere.
Today I remember the old wars, the new wars. And there is chaos in the promise land. I pray we learn, we are different and we are the same. Please don’t give away freedom. Old soldiers fought for less government, strong people and opportunity.
It is November 2020. Time for us to be thankful for freedom. Time for us to heal. Allow men and women to walk/ talk and be proud to be a American. Time for us to remember. Once great men stood and die for us to be free. Freedom isn’t free, some paid with everything. We can’t accept hate no-more, we can’t accept talk of revenge. If we don’t seek even ground, seek places where we can heal and teach our children. We can overcome hatred and disappointment. Make the world safe for every child.
Many wars are still being fought. Brave men and women standing tall for us. My soldier wish. We can learn. We are just men, we are just women. Needing a safe place to live, opportunity and our children to know the sweetness of freedom. We must fix our own problems and remember the old wisdom. “Take a town to raise a child.” We need less government control and be govern by the people.
When a soldier is killed in war. Do not ask the color of the soldier. You will offend the soldier asked. A soldier, is a brother. Maybe, all of us. Need to learn the soldier creed. We are all brothers and sisters in our world.
We celebrate together, we fight together and we stand as one against the enemy.