Unnamed, But Not Unknown
Look over the fields with headstones of white;
Many have grieved for those lost in the fight.
On many headstones, you'll not find a name;
Maybe their lives, would not have known fame.
Just the same, they were somebody's child;
Strong-willed, God fearing, or meek and mild.
The gravestones seem to make one feel alone;
Though we may not know your name, you're not unknown.
Your parents were blessed with a newborn son;
You made them proud: yes, you were the one.
Your days were filled with many new things;
You enjoyed life each day; for all it would bring.
You were the one who fell and skinned a knee;
"Be careful next time", was mom's only plea.
Adventures and excitement along the way;
You and family went to Church come Sunday.
You always wanted to fight for your country;
So, when the time came, you joined the infantry.
No physicals, some training--you qualified;
You were ready, whether you lived or died.
Off to war--you knew only one thing: fight;
But your day came; it was your final plight.
Lost amongst the bodies-there were so many;
You weren't sent home; no names, not any.
As we look over the fields with headstones of white,
We grieve over you; you fought a good fight.
On the headstone, we can't find your name;
The things you died for, has brought you fame.
You are and will always be somebody's child;
God knows you feared Him, though meek and mild.
You're with many like you; you're not alone;
Though we may not know your name, you're not unknown.
Many have grieved for those lost in the fight.
On many headstones, you'll not find a name;
Maybe their lives, would not have known fame.
Just the same, they were somebody's child;
Strong-willed, God fearing, or meek and mild.
The gravestones seem to make one feel alone;
Though we may not know your name, you're not unknown.
Your parents were blessed with a newborn son;
You made them proud: yes, you were the one.
Your days were filled with many new things;
You enjoyed life each day; for all it would bring.
You were the one who fell and skinned a knee;
"Be careful next time", was mom's only plea.
Adventures and excitement along the way;
You and family went to Church come Sunday.
You always wanted to fight for your country;
So, when the time came, you joined the infantry.
No physicals, some training--you qualified;
You were ready, whether you lived or died.
Off to war--you knew only one thing: fight;
But your day came; it was your final plight.
Lost amongst the bodies-there were so many;
You weren't sent home; no names, not any.
As we look over the fields with headstones of white,
We grieve over you; you fought a good fight.
On the headstone, we can't find your name;
The things you died for, has brought you fame.
You are and will always be somebody's child;
God knows you feared Him, though meek and mild.
You're with many like you; you're not alone;
Though we may not know your name, you're not unknown.
Jan Bagwell
God Bless !
Unnamed, But Not Unknown
by Deborah Smith Plemmons
Look over the fields with headstones of white;
Many have grieved for those lost in the fight.
On many headstones, you'll not find a name;
Maybe their lives, would not have known fame.
Just the same, they were somebody's child;
Strong-willed, God fearing, or meek and mild.
The gravestones seem to make one feel alone;
Though we may not know your name, you're not unknown.
Your parents were blessed with a newborn son;
You made them proud: yes, you were the one.
Your days were filled with many new things;
You enjoyed life each day; for all it would bring.
You were the one who fell and skinned a knee;
"Be careful next time", was mom's only plea.
Adventures and excitement along the way;
You and family went to Church come Sunday.
You always wanted to fight for your country;
So, when the time came, you joined the infantry.
No physicals, some training--you qualified;
You were ready, whether you lived or died.
Off to war--you knew only one thing: fight;
But your day came; it was your final plight.
Lost amongst the bodies-there were so many;
You weren't sent home; no names, not any.
As we look over the fields with headstones of white,
We grieve over you; you fought a good fight.
On the headstone, we can't find your name;
The things you died for, has brought you fame.
You are and will always be somebody's child;
God knows you feared Him, though meek and mild.
You're with many like you; you're not alone;
Though we may not know your name, you're not unknown.
- See more at: http://www.christart.com/poetry/poem1059.htm#sthash.LziH9BO4.dpufMany have grieved for those lost in the fight.
On many headstones, you'll not find a name;
Maybe their lives, would not have known fame.
Just the same, they were somebody's child;
Strong-willed, God fearing, or meek and mild.
The gravestones seem to make one feel alone;
Though we may not know your name, you're not unknown.
Your parents were blessed with a newborn son;
You made them proud: yes, you were the one.
Your days were filled with many new things;
You enjoyed life each day; for all it would bring.
You were the one who fell and skinned a knee;
"Be careful next time", was mom's only plea.
Adventures and excitement along the way;
You and family went to Church come Sunday.
You always wanted to fight for your country;
So, when the time came, you joined the infantry.
No physicals, some training--you qualified;
You were ready, whether you lived or died.
Off to war--you knew only one thing: fight;
But your day came; it was your final plight.
Lost amongst the bodies-there were so many;
You weren't sent home; no names, not any.
As we look over the fields with headstones of white,
We grieve over you; you fought a good fight.
On the headstone, we can't find your name;
The things you died for, has brought you fame.
You are and will always be somebody's child;
God knows you feared Him, though meek and mild.
You're with many like you; you're not alone;
Though we may not know your name, you're not unknown.
