Christina A. Sharik


A young soldier waits,
in the hot blowing sand
Far, far away
from his own sweet homeland.

I woke this morning
to a cold, driving rain,
and old soldiers sit
with memories and pain.

The flag next door, clanging,
hangs on a pole and
it sounds like it’s banging
on the gates of Heaven
to make it known
that somebody’s child is
out there, all on his own.

I think of the ones that I knew
my father, grandfather
nephew, friends; my son, too,
I love them all
and I keep them near;
I keep remembrances
close, warm and dear.

Some young soldier
will die today
in a country
that is far away;
God and the angels
know and weep
droplets of sorrow
from wells eternally deep;
War has no End
But the Beginning
is a peaceful
and dreamless Sleep…

Old soldiers sit
with memories and pain,
and some people say
this is only Rain.