They’re tapping out a rumor
On the side of my cell wall
The rumor that I’m hearing
Whispered down the hall -
Is that freedom will be coming
Freedom for us all.

Excitement first - but then the fear
That makes us all uneasy here.
We’ve heard the rumors all before
And heard the clanging of the door
Swinging shut and cutting off
Our dreams and hopes once more.

But this time guards are coming
They have told us that it’s true
They’ve let us out to set us free
I’m coming home to you!

We’re very loud once on the plane
Until the fear begins to play
Will our loved ones still be waiting
Or will they stay away?

We’ve missed so very many years
How many holidays gone by -
How many nights has she wept tears
and has she ceased to cry?

We’re afraid - our hearts are pounding
Landing time is near -
Now the plane is slowing
I’m overcome with fear

I cannot let it beat me
Not after all that I’ve been through
I have faith in God and country
And I believe in you.

Then all my fears fall fast away -
I can see her by the gate -
I need to hurry now, you understand
I cannot make her wait –

Those lovely eyes are sparkling
She’s running; brown eyes streaming -
She’s here to meet me, here to greet me
As in all my nights of dreaming.

I’m home at last
In every sense and way -
I shall have peace forever after
I shall have Christmas every day.

I have witnessed festivals all over the world

From the Bulls of Pamplona to the glittering swirl

Of the crowds in New Orleans on Mardi Gras Day.

And they all were impressive, each in its way.

But, by far the most impressive of all

Wasn’t on a foreign plaza or the DC Mall.

It was the heartfelt joy of a dear old friend

As he said, “I’m glad you’re safely home again.”

But what of the men who will never see

Glad faces like the ones that welcomed me;

Men who for thirty long years and more

Have been locked behind their captors' doors?

There are some who’d rather turn away

And forget those men who were willing to pay

With their lives and their youth for democracy.

Weren't those men fighting to also stay free?

Observe the politicians who are never there

To fight for their country and who really don't care

That some who did have never come home -

That they've been abandoned to suffer alone;

They speak of patriotism with puffed up chests

While surreptitiously feathering their nests.

Our forsaken men must wonder why

Their country has callously left them to die.

As their bleak yesterday becomes hopeless tomorrow,

With nothing ahead but more days of sorrow,

What do they care about pageantry

And homecoming festivals across the sea?

Shall we just sigh and let them be

A shameful footnote in our history?

July 2002

Glitter In The Sun

The Vietnamese boy
Was playing in the sun,
trying to pass some time
until his day was done

Playing where his ancestors
had waged an old war
Not one went there anymore

The jungle had now hidden
Where once death was bidden

In the old jungle places of battle
Near his foot something that did rattle

Something that is shining in the light
Still after many years so bright

Oblong metal tag on a neck chain
This found, a new toy he does obtain

Picking up his new found treasure
Toward home his steps do measure

And... in the jungle silent behind
Around an old warplane,
The jungle vines do twine.

©Faye Sizemore 1 August 2002

Heroes: A Veterans’ Day Wish

Here’s to the Heroes of Vietnam
who answered their country’s call -
who slept in the mud and the jungle
and gave up their youth, one and all...

Here’s to the ones who feel guilty -
and here’s to the ones who feel sad -
and here’s to the nurses and medics
and here’s to the MIA dad -

None of them wanted to die there;
None of them wanted to go -
yet, off they went, alone and unknown
ages and ages ago.

Well, here’s to my heroes, the Veterans
and here’s to their families too.
May Heaven watch over them always;
all other veterans
and...You.

Bring Them Back

I'm sick and tired, Of hearing, MIA, Our men gone missing! Families are mourning, Enough of this business! Bring them home, Bring them back! What is the sense, Of all these attacks? Every war, Every battle! Men gone missing, When they're doing, All their missions! MIA, Missing in Action! And what the heck, Is our reaction, Supposed to be, When we hear this news? We can't live on, Without sharing our views! Bring them home, Bring them back! Our POW's and MIA's. Danielle N. Calhoun © August 3, 2002

The (POW/MIA) Homecoming

As their bleak yesterday becomes hopeless tomorrow,