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Susan K. de Vegter

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Popular Poetry (History)
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An Old Flag
by Susan K. de Vegter

Thursday, March 16, 2006
Rated "PG" by the Author.
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           >> View all 1,204


There he was...opening the gate
It squeaked with rust, as was our fate
Just now the war had come and gone
Scarred our flag and bleached old bones
The south is lying upon the rags
The tattered stripes of this old flag
The many dead and those abused
The cries in pain with worn old news
The Man he comes with bearded growth
He speaks of scars and never boasts
He cries for families of man
Those down south and northern lands
This war took tolls from all the folks
It crushed our hearts and freedom choked
Its honor crippled but never slain
Though with the fight and all the pains
We still are free but laden bare
From worn old souls when spirits dared
The South , this man..all tattered and torn
Sleep deprived and faith all scorned
He comes to me with open arms
I take him in and with a warm
Heart to keep his tears at bay
Rock his terrors til the day
From Johnny Reb and banners high
To recall hearts who tried and died
To know that we fought , nothings free
For Southern courage in me and thee
Our hearts are red and high the stars
The flag reminds me of our scars
Dignity worn with proud array
When gates were rusted in southern days
When hearts were etched in proud old bones
When flags meant honor for our home
When all the tears of loved ones gone
Fly with the colors from which we're born
The gate still rusted and fallen down
Is proudly part of this...our land
Though old and used and born to die
Its still for heritage that honor flies.



Author: Susan K. de Vegter

copyright, 2001 (all rights reserved)

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Reviewed by Ronald Hull 3/19/2006
There is a certain allure to the dream of aristocracy that was the old South for 200 years. It spawned much art and muse on the backs of nearly invisible slaves. Well written.
Reviewed by Tinka Boukes 3/17/2006
Excellent write!!

Love Tinka
Reviewed by . ignis 3/16/2006
War is the vilest of mankind's crimes. Thinking of it makes me sick. We are all different, not one fiber bears more than similarity to that of others, not one feeling or thought is ever the same. But as much as we are capable of hate, we are also capable of love; the greatest power of all universes. Love is bigger than life, bigger than death.

RAge
Reviewed by Peter Paton 3/16/2006
When we have laid our lives on the line for what we believe in, then nothing is in vain, no matter the outcome !
This is another Southern gem from your golden quill Susan, that rekindles the fires of history in vivid and explicit fashion
Peter
Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado 3/16/2006
Wonderful write, Susan; brava!

(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :D
Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner 3/16/2006
Susan,

BRAVA!!!!!! A grand ole flag, a grand ole poem. :)

(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Reviewed by Paul Berube 3/16/2006
Susan,

Very beautiful write. We must never fear for history will never let those gates and hinges rust over completely. Well done my friend.



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