Faye Sizemore


Bless those that are looking
Hunting for the tiniest clue
Chopping thru the jungle
God, let their vigor renew
Those digging through the mud
Sifting through each shovel too
Looking for evidence of a crash site
Or a last battle on an old night
Or a piece of button from a uniform
Any piece of metal wedged so tight
Dog tags in the jungle floor
Anything that differs from the norm
That the jungle vines may bind
Treasure hunters, they are, searching
And the treasure they hope to find
Just a scrape of a military shoe
Or a resting place in a foreign land
A ring once worn upon a hand
God give them strength and bless them
For what they still have to do
Shield them from the blazing sun
Shelter them from the monsoon rain
That they may be able to continue on
And, in doing so, ease some family’s pain
May they bring a missing soldier home again.