the farce of fear

what if the power to prevail

prevailed first in thought

what if our arms race

raced to lend a hand

of help

and an ear yearning

to heal

what if we were

to imagine and live

only one race

the human race

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The Falling Rain

The pitter, the patter the constant clatter the drone of the drowning rain   The birds, their banter now silent and somber still safe and serene subdued by the canter of continuous rain   My coat uncloaked now hooked and hung on high the drip of endless drops the dripping of the rain   The …

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The First Last Dance – At Last

her life she lived by choice to live humbly within the hills and hollows of the only place ever she called home a life lived long and a long life lived upon the land she labored and the home she made with such love and though life at times was not so kind in kind …

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G-Men Pride – We Wear It Still

We came from Across the Tracks and Between the Bridges.  Places with names like Springville, Falls Mills, Sedgewood, West Graham and Pine Hill Park.  We came from in town and out in the country and we gathered at the Double Gates.  Why?  To become men.  To become G-Men. The day the dream began.  Some of …

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Ali

Like him or not, agree or disagree, his words and his actions made us think, and for that we are better. Greater perhaps.

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Sergeant Riley’s Absence

Windswept leaves dance across the Wild Meadow Cemetery in a random swirl and suddenly all is calm.   Perhaps the end was that sudden nearly seventy-two years ago when Sergeant Mark Herman Riley breathed his last breath on a battlefield in New Guinea.    It was July 1944. Little is known of that fateful day.  A letter …

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In The Shadows of Angels

Reflections of the MS Weekend Escape – Brian Mason Respite Camp at Smith Mountain Lake In the shadows of angels there is a spirit and that spirit longs to dance.  That spirit stirs restlessly within us all.  A spirit born in our childhood that ran and played free of care, unaware that the world might …

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From Within, With Wynn

Illustrations by MWR Frackelton (Mary-Wynn Rogers Frackelton’s first painting, 11 months old) For Mary-Wynn, My Goddaughter, Impressions of Her Art From within This cage They call it pack-n-play And it seems to be Everywhere we go The towering walls Of green Have gotten smaller And as I peer Over The world is within My view …

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In Fields We Play

In Fields We Play by Joe Cundiff In the stillness of night And on the early morning Mountain ridges And dark river banks I shall miss you still You became and would Become So much of my soul My being Together we shared More than one life Could bear Together we trod Amidst darkness And …

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The Wind My Soul

The Wind My Soul By Joe Cundiff   The wind is howling howling The wind is growling Ripping through my skin The wind is Howling Trees bending bending Bending More But will not break But will I Branches sway in the howling Growling wind Angry waves dancing Angrily randomly And somehow Majestic Yet I stand …

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