The Saline Courier Weekend

Poets Forum

- by Dennis Patton To submit poems for publicatio­n, please send poems of 16 or fewer lines to Dennis Patton, 2512 Springhill Circle, Alexander, AR 72002, or patton_dr@hotmail.com.

REASSIGNME­NT

Feet timed to rigid cadence now Beneath VA pajama uniforms.

Instead of reveille, it’s vital signs Non-regimented schedule daily norm. Wheelchair maneuvers to the canteen floor,

Like R and R from sessions even yet Where medics chart progress by his recall

On scenes he only wishes to forget.

But some days he blanks out hospital walls,

Salutes an orderly with brisk command

Eyes focused on imagined stars and stripes,

Reviews in dress parade a marching band.

His buddy holds him by one empty sleeve

Until from sightless eyes slow teardrops start.

He cries for comrades marching on his mind

Inside that shell there beats a purple heart.

— Faye Boyette Wise Benton

VETERANS DAY

On Veterans Day we should recall That freedom is not free,

And thank our God and founders for Sweet land of liberty.

— Don Crowson Deceased

HAIKU

Veterans Day the Bradford pear turning orange

— Pat Laster Benton

LEST WE FORGET

Today is Veterans Day in the land of the free. A day to say, “Thank you” to every hero you meet and count all the freedoms they help make come true. God just painted the sky red, white, and blue.

— Mike Pafundi Deceased

SAW A SOLDIER

I saw a soldier cry today.

His tears ran through the blood.

His men were falling everywhere, He saved the ones he could.

I saw a soldier smile today.

His men were true and brave.

They fought the fight he asked them to;

Their all was what they gave.

I saw a soldier pray today,

But something touched me more. For on his lips, these words I heard, “Dear God, please end this war.” I saw a soldier home today;

His fight has kept me free.

He is the guard who stands for us

To keep our liberty.

I saw a soldier stand today,

One artificial limb

Held close the ones he loved the most, Cause he earned it for them.

— Dennis Patton Alexander

WHISTLE ME A MEMORY

Sometimes a lonely train whistle splits the silence of the night taking me back to that narrow Pullman on a crowded train whizzing west when I was very young and rules were for the old.

— Verna Lee Hinegardne­r Former Poet Laureate

THE COMPETITIO­N

A politician, ready to vote, knew our country’s in a sinking boat, thought about it a lot, then marked the right spot by voting for the other old goat.

—Cathy Parker Alexander Deceased

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