Guards at the Bridge |
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I dreamed I was dead, my life done People were
marching, one by one Marching to a wide river with a long
bridge I could hear celebrating just over the ridge
This wasn't like the story I was told The bridge was
huge and made of gold At the bridge armed soldier guards
stood I started to pass across as I thought I should
When one of the soldiers caught my eye I had known
him and I had seen him die: "Bill, old buddy" I said,
"it's good to see you here" He smiled at me and I saw the
trickle of a tear
"Thanks," he said "for keeping me
within your heart." He handed me his rifle and started to
depart "Wait, Bill, I want to go on across beside you.
Don't leave me here; I don't know what to do."
He
smiled, "These are the last steps of the last mile As I
did, and we all, you must stand guard here awhile Be ever
faithful, be ever watchful, and be ever true Until across
comes a brother who has remembered you." |
By Faye Sizemore
Copyright 2002 Listed
August 18, 2011 |
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About
Author...
Faye Sizemore makes her home in the beautiful foothills of South Carolina with Grant, the love of her life, as well as three dogs, two cats, two parakeets and four nanny goats. Grant is a Vietnam Veteran having served with the US Marines in 1968-69 and is, of course, Faye's muse. Faye is deeply interested in Veterans' Affairs and Veterans' Causes. She is very proud of Grant and her poetry is an off-shoot of that pride.
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