Colin F. Jones


Our lives must be the penalty paid for peace,
Which even while it’s liberating arms do rust,
Must forge an army that it’s length increase,
For only a mountain can a valley trust.
Fair grows the corn when the day is fine,
Well fed the Eagle rests upon a ledge,
But high enough to see the rains decline,
Beyond the borders of its peaceful pledge.
Who gloats untarnished in a sumptuous store,
Dismissing all the warriors that guard the land,
Will meet defeat in a distant war
For complacent peace is a peace that will be damned.
By detecting thy foe before he a foe becomes,
Ensures for peace long summers filled with suns.