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Del "Abe" Jones Poetry

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Remembering The Forgotten
Del "Abe" Jones
11-19-2005

In June of Nineteen-fifty
At the Thirty-eighth Parallel
North Korea crossed that "line"
To begin a new War’s Hell.

Armed by the USSR
With ranks of Chinese, Soviets
They Invaded South Korea
With thousands of War hardened Vets.

They overran the Southern Troops
And took the Capital of Seoul
Though, to Control the whole Country
Was the North’s ultimate goal.

Truman directed MacArthur
To evacuate Americans
And to supply the ROK Army
With ammunition and guns.

As the threat grew stronger
He authorized the use of Force
Of our Troops below the Parallel
To try to change the Battle’s course.

The U. N. asked all its members
To help repel the North’s Invasion
But as always seems to be the case
We gave more than any other Nation.

We were at War once again
With only five years since the last
To be Protectors of the World
Seemed to be our Country’s task.

There are too many Battles to list all
But to just maybe name a few
Some of them were more famous
And these most everybody knew.

There was Bunker Hill, Sniper Ridge
And Old Baldy and T-Bone
Arrowhead and Pork Chop
Were some of those better known.

But each little unknown Skirmish
On each and every unnamed Hill
Was as Huge to those who Fought
All Heroes, showing Strength of Will.

After thirty-seven months of Conflict
A cease-fire finally came to be
And we’ve had Troops watching that "line"
Since Nineteen fifty-three.

The Horrors of War unchanged
Pain and Suffering takes no side
And Scars on the Land and Man
May Seem to Heal on the Outside.

But Wars are not Forgotten
Though some may think (or wish) it so
Just ask any who have Fought them
And they will surely tell you, "No!"

There are written stats and numbers
About the Wounded, Missing, Dead
But Thanks and Praises to those Heroes
Is what should be written there, instead

Korea was no different
Just a different Time and Place
With Losses of too many Souls
Which we never can Replace.


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A Moment of Remembrance
Del "Abe" Jones

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.


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WWI, The Great War

The Guns stopped in the Eleventh Month
On the Eleventh Hour of the Eleventh Day
It was called the "War to end all Wars"
At least, that’s what they used to say.

It began in Nineteen fourteen
And blamed on an assassination
But in truth, because of Greed
And Power of Nation over Nation.

Most Countries of the World
Soon became involved in the Fight
And as it is with most all Wars
Nobody’s wrong and everybody’s right.

"The Great War" as it was also known
(There was nothing "Great" about that War)
More than nineteen million wounded
With sixteen million dead, maybe even more.

It ushered in our "Modern Age"
Of Mankind’s ability to Kill
With his new Inventions of Death
And Life’s Destruction, at will.

We’ve carried on that Tradition
And it seems we’ve done it well
We have it down to a Science
To keep our World on the brink of Hell.

Someday a new Eleventh Hour
Of some Month’s Eleventh Day
We’ll pay that price that Humankind
Has always seemed Doomed to pay.


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It’s A Real War

It’s not just a simple War of words
Or just some Partisan ideal
It’s not just politics as usual
This is a War that’s very Real.

Those of us here safe at Home
Can watch those battles on TV
We seem to become immune to it
With all the violence we see.

Those we watch are Real People
Someone’s loved one or a friend
While we can switch the channel
They must watch until the very end.

We feel sorry when we hear
That somebody has Died
We might even shed a tear
But not like all, they’ve cried.

It seems much easier to say
If this War is wrong or right
When we don’t have someone
We’ve sent over there to Fight.

The politicians play their sides
Sometimes blind, refuse to see
If they can’t cross their party lines
They never can be, really Free.

They must admit their mistakes
Have the will to change their mind
Instead of following their leaders
Like the blind leading the blind.

For this War is a Real War
People get hurt, People die
And we must each know the answer
When we ask ourselves the question, "Why?"


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My e-book, THE WORLD, WAR, FREEDOM, AND MORE" available for FREE. Just ask for it.

Mankind's greatest accomplishment is not the revolution of technology, it is the evolution of creativity.
Please feel free to pass on anything you like and ask your friends to visit my pages. If you post something on a webpage please let me know when and where. If you wish to be removed from mailings, please let me know.

More poetry and other links to my pages at http://mywebpage.netscape.com/delabejones/page2.html

New (old) book, "Moontides, and Other Changes" as well as "The World, War, Freedom, and More" are now available for free viewing or download in text format at:
http://home.att.net/~abeabe/index.html.

To see pictures of Ellis County Veterans Memorial in Waxahachie, Texas where two of my poems are inscribed go to http://www.rootsweb.com/~txellis/photos/veterans.htm

 

 

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