Footsteps

This verdant land where through the grass 
 names long forgot by men on wind
 are whispered still and walk abroad
 when mist shrouds veil and hill and dale.
 Their sacrifice, such love and loss
 Still carries over valleys deep 
 and mountains, white capped, tell their tales, 
 forgotten take eternal sleep.
 These millions, each beating heart, 
 Such hope and longing for the day
 When old they look upon a life
 Well lived and sons and daughters roar
 And shine and blaze or silent sit
 And contemplate what came before.
 So take this banner, pen and book 
 And let not time this life forget
 And in the hearts a story write
 Tomorrow’s child to still remind . 

Author: Michael

Husband, dad,(ex)programmer, comic collector and proud Yorkshireman. I have no idea why im here or why im writing but i rather enjoy it. no great fan of punctuation; View all posts by Michael