That poem about where “poppies blow”
And, “the crosses, row on row”
Still rings true, these ninety years
After written, still brings tears.

We still have Dead, “amid the guns”
And lose our young and our loved ones
Those who lived, “short days ago”
Who, “felt dawn, saw sunset glow”.

In Flanders Fields, “the poppy red”
Still grow where the blood was bled
They, “Take up our quarrel with the foe”
And still die for Freedoms that we know.

They pass, “The torch” to, “hold it high”
And not, “break the faith with us who die”
For they, “shall not sleep, though poppies grow”
Beneath all those, “crosses, row on row”
In Flanders Fields.

Del “Abe” Jones

Section Sixty
The Saddest Acre In America

Men and Women buried here
Who gave their all for you and me
In Iraq and Afghanistan
So that, others, might be Free.

Row after row of headstones
Where friends and families grieve
They pay respects and say a prayer
There’s some, don’t want to leave.

Some will place a memento
For their Hero, neath the ground
And far too often, during the day
Hearing “Taps”, a mournful sound.

The white stones bear their Name
Rank and Branch and conflict Served
The dates of Birth and Death
And the Citations, they deserved.

Maybe, a symbol for their Faith
Something, etched above their name
But no matter what, their beliefs
They’re all treated just the same.

Once, Comrades in Battle
And now, resting neath that stone
Forever with, those other Heroes
So, they will never be alone.

Section Sixty, just a small part
Of this sacred, hallowed ground
But, each plot a special place
Where, a Hero may be found.

They all are in good company
Two hundred sixty thousand souls
Buried here at Arlington
Some young, with unfulfilled life goals.

All Served our Country selflessly
And they all deserve our praise
We should, remember them and thank them
Not just, only on, these holidays.

Del “Abe” Jones
05.23.2009

GOLD STAR MOTHERS

Started with a group of twenty-five
In the year of twenty-eight
By those who’d lost a Son or Daughter
From the wartime’s cruel fate.

When the Blue Star on the Service Flag
Was replaced with one of Gold
Everybody knew a Mother grieved
With a loss from that household.

“Out of tragedy, we were formed”
And, “Out of love we continue.”
This legacy of Gold Star Mothers
With the heartache, that they knew.

They use the memories and love
Of those who gave their all
To help those other Veterans
Who answered our Nation’s call.

It’s so sad, they still exist
And most likely always will
As long as, we go to war
There’s a need they must fulfill.

Del “Abe” Jones
10-04-2003
Their observance day is the last Sunday in September.

GOLD STAR FAMILIES

There’s too many Gold Star Families
Their numbers growing every day
Too much to ask those loved ones
Such a terrible price they pay.

All will say they are very proud
That their loved one knew the cost
That in the horrors of Wartime
Precious lives are sometimes lost.

But the death of a brave Hero
In the Service of this Land
Dying for some other country
Is oft times, hard to understand.

“In the name of Freedom!”
“For the good of fellow man!”
“To put an end to oppression!”
Or, sometimes some other plan!

There have always been those Souls
Who will rally to the battle’s call
Who will bear those deadly arms
Who will march and sometimes fall.

Some will just bear the wounds
Though, not always clear to see
Some will never return the same
As the people, they used to be.

But the ones who have that void
Of that hole in heart and mind
They are the greatest Heroes
That we can ever hope to find.

Maybe one day in our future
Peace will be the way we’ll live
But until then we’ll have those
Who give all they have to give.

Gold Star Families stand in front
And shed their tears of loss and pain
And as long as Man goes to War
We’ll see them time and time, again.

Del “Abe” Jones
8-22-2006