They cascade their colors into the blackened sky
These angels have no enemy or victor in mind.
Dancing lights, flickering above the earth below
The battle angels are here for soldiers who died.
The lights, now lives past from battles lost
Reflect within my heart what freedom has cost.
Dissipating and shimmering, so free to soar
They await our next exterminating war.
Battle angels to be are among us as well
All bearing scars; each with a story to tell.
A cup of coffee and a cigarette; name's Chief.
He spent all his life on the ocean; the Navy fleet.
Preston did his time back in WW1.
An infantryman with a grenade and a gun.
They're aged in body but minds and hearts- strong!
Both tell their tales and prepare their battle songs.
Some strong some weak, all waiting to be free
To make room for more -battle angels to be.
A young man walks in and says, "Dad I just signed up."
My heart cries! Then pride as I drop my coffee cup.
I wrote this piece several years ago in honor of two gentlemen who frequented one of our local coffee shops at the time. I so enjoyed listening to their stories and both had many. Most importantly, both displayed their patriotism and faith in all they did and said.
Thanks again "Chief" and Preston.
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