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This page is full so go to>
http://mywebpage.netscape.com/delabejones/instant/memorial.html
It has all of these plus some new ones, finally!
Thanks!
CHRISTMAS MORN 2001
I’m not with the ones I love
(Except, in heart and mind)
I can’t touch, but I can feel
Joy, of a special kind.
Glad to know that they are safe
And share this Christmas Day
Unlike so many others
Whose loved ones have passed away.
It’s been a year of turmoil
Of sadness and new fears
Of watching and sharing
Far too many tears.
Our Country and the world
Has seen, the worst of worst
From people, whose hearts and minds
Seem to have been cursed.
Maybe a blessing in disguise
That brought people together
Standing side by side
To face the stormy "weather".
Things have been rearranged
Into a different list
Starting with a lot of things
That used to be dismissed.
Bonds of love and friendship
In all different walks of life
Are sprouting from the rubble
Of this worlds’ strife.
Maybe peace and goodwill
Toward our fellow man
Really is a part
Of the Heavenly plan.
Hopefully, the New Year
Will bring us even more
Of fellowship and kindness
We never, knew before.
So, this Christmas morning
For those alone or lost
There is hope in the future
That will be worth the cost.
Let’s pray for all those fallen
And those standing proud and tall
For health and peace for all mankind
And our loved ones, most of all.
DEAR SANTA
Dear Santa, I’m older
But, still believe in you
(At least, I believe in
The things you try, to do).
Maybe, I can’t ask for
A Tonka, or, a train.
(But, if you’d bring one of them
You know, I won’t complain).
But, what I really wish for
Is a special present
Love that can’t "returned"
Once it has been sent.
Everybody needs a little
And some, need a lot
But, if you get a tiny bit
You still know what you got.
So Santa, drop a little
Under each Christmas tree
Then, all will get a present
From what it’s ‘posed to be.
And if there is no tree
For the alone, and poor
When you get, to their place
Just, drop, a little more.
FAMILY, FRIENDS, AND FREEDOM
This year is more important
Than any, we have known
To, appreciate those lessons
We, sadly, have been shown.
In one day, we have learned
That, "this land of the free"
Has been changed forever
From what, it used to be.
We’ve taken it for granted
Free, from the strife of war
Fought, in some foreign land
Brought to, our home shore.
This battle must be waged
Each, and every day
If we hope, to preserve
"The American way".
We must stand together
And make the decision
To end all of those things
That can bring, division.
Family, friends and freedom
Must go hand in hand
With tolerance for those
We may not understand.
Selfish greed and violence
And the "corporation"
Will surely, be the downfall
Of, the worlds’ greatest Nation.
9/11 was the day
We got, our wake-up call
And we must, do our part
"All for one, and one for all".
THANKS for being born here
(Or, coming here to live)
We must do all we can
GIVING, all we can give.
Thanksgiving Day, 2001
Of history’s’ turning page
Is the first day of the war
For Peace, that we must wage.
SEVEN COME ELEVEN
On this day we remember
That "day of infamy"
And sadly we understand
More than we want to see.
A "sneak attack" on Freedom
And the American way
Brought back to reality
On Septembers’ eleventh day.
Thousands died in forty-one
With so many not retrieved
Resting in their watery grave
O’er which friends and family grieved.
Now we have another place
Known to all, as "Ground Zero"
Where we have another bunch
Of, the American Hero.
Sixty years of times’ passage
Hasn’t changed the "Patriot"
Hasn’t dampened our resolve
To remember, not, forget.
Those who gave their, "all"
And those, still yet, to "give"
Standing for, protecting
The kind of life, we live.
The casualties of war
Don’t always bear a gun
But, they all are Heroes
When all is said and done.
Now, we have another one
Of those "infamous" days
With the horrible cost
That Freedom, often, pays.
December 7, 2001
CATHEDRAL OF TEARS
Jutting from the rubble
Up through the smoky haze
Like spires of a Cathedral
Where the "believer" prays.
Seven stories of heartache
Left from the hundred-ten
Of those two mighty towers
Never to be seen again.
For thousands who have perished
And the loved ones they leave
A monument to all of us
Who shed our tears, and grieve.
In its eerie setting
There was a sort of beauty
Standing guard over those
Who died doing their duty.
A strange sense of peace
Amidst the scene of ruin
As others search for comrades
Who died, doing what theyre doing.
There are heroes by the hundreds
And some stories, never known
But in Gods Cathedral
They will sit upon His throne.
The "Cathedral Of Tears"
Will last in our minds eye
As we bow our heads
And ask, "Why, dear Lord? Why?"
Sorry about punctuation and I send condolences to all who have lost loved ones and all Americans as well as all Freedom loving people on this Earth!
911 ON 9-11
You cowards of the world
Dont think, you can rejoice
For, hear this message loud and clear
From one, united voice.
The civilized among us
Will make you rue this day
And youll find it wont be worth
The price, youll have to pay.
Some say they are holy wars
But that mighty supreme being
Must be cringing from the sights
That He has been seeing.
I bet He never dreamed
That Hed created such as you
That the Devil could possess
And make you do what you do.
He didnt create life on Earth
To destroy one another
You might think youll go to Heaven
But, youll end up in the other.
When people kill their fellowman
In the name of their Maker
All of them end up as
The worst kind of forsaker.
Religious zealots have killed more
Than, for any other reason
And it has been the worst kind
Of, what some may call treason.
An affront to all thats right
Thats decent and humane
Strong beliefs are okay
Until, they become, INSANE!
You didnt strike America
You hurt every human soul
And you gave us all resolve
To thwart your evil goal.
You are less than animals
Worse than rats from the sewer
A mutant of our species
That this world has to endure.
But, your days are numbered
Hear this, above the painful wail
That people of good will and heart
Are the ones, who will, prevail.
Goodbye to a great musician and a wonderful person.
THE GUITARS WILL NEVER FORGET YOU
You produced the Nashville Sound
And most everyone who played it
And downtown, in Nashville
Your bronze will always sit.
I know you re looking down
With a smile upon your face
Knowing you and your guitar
Have finally found your Place.
The music will be sweeter
And They really got a prize
Though, for many years we had you
But now have, tears in our eyes.
You will be missed by so many
But, we ll be warmed in our hearts
Each time we hear your music
And the magic it imparts.
So Chet, please enjoy yourself
Now, you re on the second Page
We know, on that one up there
You ll always be front stage.
CHET
I met you the first time
At Phil Baugh s HEART TO HEART
I d just been in town awhile
And didn t know where to start.
I was really nervous
When I saw you come my way
Thought, Damn, that s Chet Atkins!
What am I going to say?
You came up to me
And said you liked my hat
You made me feel right at ease
Because that s where you were at.
Don t remember all we talked about
And as I looked around
It hit who I was talking to
Here in, this Nashville town.
Many stars were gathered
And it hit me again
I m sharing the stage with them.
And my nerve was wearing thin.
You said, that I d be fine
And Chet, you know what?
It was more of a thrill
Than, I da ever thought.
Thank you Chet, for your kind heart
And your amazing grace
For in our hearts, you ll always be
There in your special place.
7-1-01
Since the recent execution of Tim McVeigh thought it would be the right time to repost the next two. Hopefully his execution will help to bring some closure to the victims and families of this evil act.
THERE'S TERROR IN THE HEARTLAND
IT'S COME TO THE HEARTLAND
THE TERROR AND THE DREAD
IN ONE EXPLOSIVE MOMENT
OUR INNOCENCE HAS FLED
OH YES, IT HAS COME HOME!
THERE IS NO UNDERSTANDING
THERE'S ONLY DISBELIEF
WAS IT OUR OWN COUNTRYMEN
WHO BROUGHT DOWN ALL THIS GRIEF?
OH YES, IT HAS COME HOME!
OUR VOICES CRY FOR JUSTICE
OUR HEARTS CRY OUT IN PAIN
FOR FAMILY, FRIENDS, AND LOVED ONES
NEVER TO BE, SEEN OR HELD AGAIN
OH YES, IT HAS COME HOME!
THEN, THERE ARE THE CHILDREN
WITHOUT THEIR LIVES TO LIVE
NOW THE WORLD WILL SURELY MISS
THE GIFTS THEY HAD TO GIVE
OH YES, IT HAS COME HOME!
THE IMAGES OF HEROES
BURNED DEEP INTO OUR MIND
PEOPLE HELPING PEOPLE
SHOWS WE ARE A SPECIAL KIND
OH YES, IT HAS COME HOME!
IN THE TWISTED STEEL AND CONCRETE
THROUGH THE DAY AND DARK OF NIGHT
WE WATCH THE TIRELESS EFFORT
OF THE RESCUERS FIGHT.
OH YES, IT CAN COME HOME!
HOW CAN A HUMAN BEING
HARBOR SUCH DEMENTED HATE
TO BRING UPON THEIR OWN KIND
SUCH A CRUEL FATE
OH YES, IT HAS COME HOME
THOUGH MOST OF US VIEW FROM AFAR
IT COULD HAVE BEEN MINE OR YOURS
BUT WE MUST GRIEVE AND THEN GO ON
NOT HIDE BEHIND LOCKED DOORS
EVEN THOUGH, IT HAS COME HOME!
THERE ARE NO EASY ANSWERS
WHEN OUR HEARTS ARE TORN
BUT FROM HEALING WORDS OF PROMISE
EACH NEW HOPE IS BORN.
OH YES, IT CAN COME HOME!
OH YES, IT WILL COME HOME!
IT HAS COME HOME!
ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY-EIGHT SECONDS
One second for each victim -
On this anniversary -
But a lifetime of sorrow -
For surviving friends and family.
A small tribute to them -
'Midst the sadness and the tears -
Remembering happy times -
Of all those by-gone years.
We have all learned a lesson -
From the people of that city -
To go on and persevere -
But, isn't it a pity?
That we must learn such lessons -
With such a price to pay -
With sadness in heart and mind -
On this observance day.
Just want to send condolences -
To all of those concerned -
And hope those responsible -
Will in Hell, be burned.
THE NEVER ENDING TRAIL
We whites honor the "Hermitage"
And the man who once lived there -
But, that leader of our Nation
Was cruel, unjust, unfair -
He ordered the removal
Of the Cherokee from their land
And forced them on a trek
That the Devil must have planned -
One thousand miles of misery -
Of pain and suffering -
Because greed of the white man
Could not even wait till spring -
We should bow our heads in shame
Even unto this day
About "The Trail Of Tears"
And those who died along the way.
It was October, eighteen thirty-eight
When seven thousand troops in blue
Began the story of the "Trail"
Which, so sadly, is so true -
Jackson ordered General Scott
To rout the Indian from their home -
The "Center Of The World" they loved -
The only one they'd known -
The Braves working in the fields
Arrested, placed in a stockade -
Women and children dragged from home
In the bluecoats shameful raid -
Some were prodded with bayonets
When, they were deemed to move too slow
To where the Sky was their blanket
And the cold Earth, their pillow -
In one home a Babe had died
Sometime in the night before -
And women mourning, planning burial
Were cruelly herded out the door -
In another, a frail Mother -
Papoose on back and two in tow
Was told she must leave her home
Was told that she must go -
She uttered a quiet prayer -
Told the old family dog good-bye -
Then, her broken heart gave out
And she sank slowly down to die -
Chief Junaluska witnessed this -
Tears streaming down his face -
Said if he could have known this
It would have never taken place -
For, at the battle of Horse Shoe
With five hundred Warriors, his best -
Helped Andrew Jackson win that battle
And lay thirty-three Braves to rest -
And the Chief drove his tomahawk
Through a Creek Warrior's head
Who was about to kill Jackson -
But whose life was saved, instead -
Chief John Ross knew this story
And once sent Junaluska to plead -
Thinking Jackson would listen to
This Chief who did that deed -
But, Jackson was cold, indifferent
To the one he owed his life to
Said, "The Cherokee's fate is sealed -
There's nothing, I can do."
Washington, D.C. had decreed
They must be moved Westward -
And all their pleas and protests
To this day still go unheard.
On November, the seventeenth
Old Man Winter reared his head -
And freezing cold, sleet and snow
Littered that trail with the dead
On one night, at least twenty-two
Were released from their torment
To join that Great Spirit in the Sky
Where all good souls are sent -
Many humane, heroic stories
Were written 'long the way -
A monument, for one of them -
Still stands until this day -
It seems one noble woman
It was Chief Ross' wife -
Gave her blanket to a sick child
And in so doing, gave her life -
She is buried in an unmarked grave -
Dug shallow near the "Trail" -
Just one more tragic ending
In this tragic, shameful tale -
Mother Nature showed no mercy
Till they reached the end of the line
When that fateful journey ended
On March twenty-sixth, eighteen thirty-nine.
Each mile of this infamous "Trail"
Marks the graves of four who died -
Four thousand poor souls in all
Marks the shame we try to hide -
You still can hear them crying
Along "The Trail Of Tears"
If you listen with your heart
And not with just your ears.
The preceding was partly inspired by a story told to children by John Burnett on the occasion of his eightieth birthday in 1890. It was printed in a book titled "Cherokee Legends And The Trail Of Tears", adapted by Thomas Bryan Underwood.
My main inspiration, though is the shame and disgust I feel as I learn more about the atrocities perpetrated by our forefathers and the injustices which still occur to the true Native Americans.
John Burnett was a Private in an infantry company which took part in the Cherokee Removal of 1838-1839.
Near the end of his story he says, in part, "Future generations will read and condemn the act .....". Do we?
In closing he says, "However, murder is murder whether committed by the villain skulking in the dark or by uniformed men stepping to the strains of martial music.
Murder is murder and somebody must answer, somebody must explain the streams of blood that flowed in the Indian country in the summer of 1838.
Somebody must explain the four thousand silent graves that mark the trail of the Cherokees to their exile. I wish I could forget it all, but the picture of six hundred and forty-five wagons lumbering over the frozen ground with their Cargo of suffering humanity still lingers in my memory.
Let the historian of a future day tell the sad story with its' sighs, its' tears and dying groans. Let the great Judge of all the earth weigh our actions and reward us according to our work."
If only it worked that way!
TIME TO GO
I could see the flash of cannon
Over the ridge of the hill
Could hear the shots over my head
As I lay deathly still.
I looked up at the twinkling stars
Through the haze of the gunsmoke
And I could hear my comrades
Whispering as they spoke.
There was a quaking in their voice
That betrayed their mortal fear
And as I gazed into the sky
I asked, "What am I doing here?"
I thought of all those buddies
Killed on this foreign shore
And of loved ones back home
And then, I knew, "What for!"
To fight for God and Country
Is a calling, most will heed
To keep freedom safe from those
Who would plant an evil seed.
I lay there in my foxhole
Gripped by the numbing cold
But then, felt a warmth, from inside
Like I was held in the "fold".
I felt my best friend touch me
And couldn't believe he said,
"No need to call the corpsman,
'Cause he's already dead!"
And then my head felt light
As I looked down below,
Whispered, "I'll see ya', Bros
Because it's time for me to go!"
6-11-01
THERE'S NO POCKETS
You won't hear the sound
Of the jingle of the money
Because it's not needed
Although that may seem funny.
You won't find any keys
Hiding in a pocket
You'll have to find another way
If you want to unlock it.
There's no credit cards
No checkbook to write in
No place for lotto tickets
You hope that you might win.
No place for the application
For that loan on a bank note
No pad to write reminders
That you should have wrote.
There's nowhere to hide the hands
That should be reaching out
And no pocketfull of dreams
When your mind is filled with doubt.
When you reach that dressing room
Way up there in the sky
And when you put that "robe" on
You won't have to wonder, "Why?"
There are no pockets in it
No place to keep your "stuff"
For you'll know there is no need
'Cause you'll have more than enough.
IN PASSING
Sometimes Mom in passing
Would pat you on the back
And sometimes in passing
She'd show you the right track.
Sometimes Mom in passing
Would say, "You sure look nice!"
And sometimes in passing
She could, make you, think twice.
Sometimes Mom in passing
Would lightly touch your hair
And sometimes in passing
She'd show you what was fair.
Sometimes Mom in passing
Would ask, "What do you mean?"
And sometimes in passing
She would get in between.
Sometimes Mom in passing
Would give you, "that look"
And sometimes in passing
Would give you what it took.
But this time, Mom is passing
From this world to the best
And this time in passing
She'll pass the final test.
And when Mom has past
And the pain is so unkind
Just look and you'll find her
There in you heart and mind.
DALE EARNHART
For more than twenty years
He ran those old stock cars
Now, he is racing in the Heavens
In and out amongst the stars.
Less than half a century
He spent here in this place
But, made his mark in history
And there will always be a trace
He left this world doing the thing
Closest to his heart
Now he will race forever
With a brand new green flag start
He will be missed by many
Fans, friends, and family
But if we look to the sky
I know that we will see
His number 3 flash by
Bumping, a star or two
To let all know, he is there
Like he always, loved to do.
HEARTS AND FLOWERS
A day for hearts and flowers
The time to say you care
A chance to tell your loved ones
You're glad that they are there.
But!, wonder why we wait
Until, this certain day
To do those "special" things
And, say those things we say?
Why not? Tell mate or lover
Each day, the whole year through
"Valentine, I'm glad you're mine
And, I sure do love you".
The site wont let me use apostrophes or quotes so please forgive punctuation.
ALL OF GODS CREATURES
It s the morning of Christmas
And all through my house
Not a creature was stirring
Cept that pesky mouse.
I can hear him scurrying
Up over my bed
And if I d caught him
He d surely be dead.
But, since it s Christmas
I put out some cheese
And I ll let him eat
All that he please.
Guess the seasons mood
Has made me go soft
Even towards that mouse
Up there in the loft.
He s one of Gods creature
And I m not to say
That he s not a place
In the earthly way.
There s lots of things
We don t understand
Why He put them here
Or fit in His plan.
Ours is not to question
Wondering, Why?
About all those things
That walk, crawl, swim, and fly.
We ve already forced
Some to be extinct
And if we keep on
We ll be on that brink.
So here s to Gods creatures
The great, and small
For I know, without them
The world ends, that s all.
12-25-00
A CHRISTMAS DREAM
A clatter on the rooftop
In the dark of Christmas Eve
Eyes peek from neath the covers
Filled with stories they believe.
Wondering if they have been good
And if Dear Old Santa knows?
Hoping his bag is full of toys for them
As anticipation grows.
Ears straining in the silence
To hear Santa at the tree
Fighting back the temptation
To slip out of bed and see.
Hearing the, Ho, ho, ho.
As he gets back on his sleigh
Mingled with reindeers hoofbeats
They hear, Up, up and away.
Eyes opened wide on Christmas morn
At the first dawning light
Hoping they were not a dream
Those sounds heard in the night.
SOUNDS OF CHRISTMAS
There is music of the holidays
Playing on the radio
There is Christmas decorations
Almost everywhere you go.
The Salvation Army bells
Ring out for the poor
The Ho, ho, ho of Santa Claus
In the department stores.
Carolers sing Christmas songs
Going, house to house
Tales about, where no one stirs
Not even, a mouse.
Hoofbeats in fresh fallen snow
Pulling, an open sleigh
Children asking Mom and Dad
Is Santa on his way?
Cracklin from the fireplace
Roasting chestnuts neath the coals
The soft murmur of prayers
Said, for the lost souls.
Friends and family gather
To toast, Christmas cheer
There is sounds of angels singing
If, you really want to hear.
The sounds of Christmas, fill the air
As we celebrate His birth
Wishing joy, to all mankind
And peace to all on earth.
STAR OF HOPE
They came to pray, on Christmas Day
When, the Christ Child was born
They came to see, Virgin Mary
Bear hope for the forlorn.
Some from afar, followed that star
Though why, they were not sure
At great expense, brought frankincense
Gifts of, spices and myrrh.
They gathered round, as if spellbound
Their eyes lit by the glow
For, from the bed, o er Jesus head
There was a bright halo.
That Child did things, to poor and kings
With the gaze of His eye
He gave some hope, helped others cope
And some, He made them cry.
Down on their knees, they said, Lord, please
Stop pain and suffering.
Make all on Earth, of the same worth
With the joy, that you can bring.
Please teach of love, from God above
Shared by each fellow man.
Show us the way, what we must say
To fit the Heavenly plan.
He tried for years, to end mans fears
Brought miracles each day
He taught His word, not always heard
And for our souls , he d pray.
But, it seems greed, had sown its seed
For some, twas much too late.
And though He cared and, always shared
The Cross had sealed His fate.
Now, all mankind, for being blind
Must someday, pass the test.
But, if lived right, both day and night
Mans future could be blessed.
So Christmas Day, take time to pray
To bow your head and see
That God above, will send His love
For all eternity.
MY CHRISTMAS TREE
My Christmas tree still grows
In the forest neath the sky
Branches bowed with decorations
Unseen by the naked eye
The kinds of ornaments
You cant buy in any store
Made from recollections
From Christmases of yore
Nights spent till wee hours
Pulling those toys together
Going late for batteries
Into the wintry weather
The flushed excited faces
The wide eyes filled with glee
Some old memories of times
That excited child was me
Friends and family dropping by
With loads of Christmas cheer
When leaving shouting wishes
For a Happy New Year
Memories of quiet eves
Spent in front of the fire
A hot toddy or two
That would make us perspire
But friends and family move
And some may go away
But theyve a place in my heart
On every Christmas day
And those kids of yesteryear
Suddenly are grown
They find mates get married
Have families of their own
Christmas decorations
Need not sparkle and shine
For memories bring a beauty
Of a very special kind
Though I may be alone
And my Christmas tree looks bare
Thats not really true
Cause of those memories we share.
CHRISTMAS SENSES
Christmas trees with twinkling lights
Sparkling tinsel spread around
Ornaments and decorations
On the green boughs, hanging down.
A wreath of holy on the outside
Mistletoe above the door
Sounds of those Christmas carols
Telling tales of Christmas lore.
Presents wrapped in shiny paper
Tied with pretty ribbons bows
The wonder in wee ones eyes
As their anticipation grows.
The chill crispness of the air
Falling crystals of white snow
The family gathered round the hearth
Warmed by the crackling glow.
Eggnog topped with nutmeg
The pies, candies and cakes
The aroma from the kitchen
Of the oven as it bakes.
A birthday celebration
For that someone up above
Thought and wishes round the earth
For a world of peace and love.
Its too bad it cant be Christmas
With all its hope and cheer
Its too bad life cant be lived
Like this day, all through the year.
CHRISTMAS EVE
This time of year the church bells ring
And carolers on corners, sing
Of gifts of love and peace and cheer
And a happy, prosperous New Year.
This time of year the childrens glee
At sitting there on Santas knee
And telling him, when they believe
What he should bring on Christmas Eve.
Please visit
http://expage.com/page/delabejones
to see pictures of
ELLIS COUNTY VETERANS MEMORIAL
Any people who visit from Ellis County, Texas, I want to thank you for the friendly and gracious way I was received at the Memorial Dedication.
Thanks to www.legalsecretarymaryland.com for this award.
Thanks to arlingtoncemetary.com for this honor.
Please visit their great page
IT'S TOP HAT
ABE - THE POOR MANS' POET
This and "POW/MIA" are carved on black granite
at the Ellis County Veterans Memorial in Waxahachie, Texas.
Dedicated November 11, 2000
What a great honor for me. Thanks to Perry Giles and David Hudgins for choosing my work to be on the Memorial. Also thank you to Emily Oliver of Waxahachie and Sandi Scales of Eberton, Georgia for their beautiful etchings upon those stones and e | ||