So many fates are left unknown
And so many rumors that abound
So many families ask the question
"When will, the answers be found?"
So many years have come and gone
Sometimes, hope is hard to keep
There’s some who feel there’s none
And in some, it’s buried deep.
The pain, is in not knowing
How, to put loved ones’ to rest
When there is no way to prove
They have passed, the final test.
But, no matter what the answers
We can’t let this cause alone
Until, each and every one of them
Is found, and brought back home
POW/MIA Missing Man Ceremony
There’s a table in the front
Raised so that it draws attention
Reserved for all those missing
Still not found or in detention.
Set for six of those missing
One each, for branches Serving
One place for lost Civilians
Whom, are felt just as deserving.
The table is shaped in the round
For the everlasting concern
As all of us, hope and pray
Someday they all, will return.
The tablecloth is bright white
To symbolize the purity
Of those, answering the call
Of their Country, doing their Duty.
The single rose, in a vase
For the lifeblood of those lost
And for those awaiting answers
A sad part of Wartime’s cost.
The vase, tied with red ribbon
A symbol of determination
To account for those still missing
In the Service of our Nation.
A slice of lemon on the bread plate
For missing/captured in a foreign land
The bitter fate of some Heroes
Who chose to make a valiant stand.
A pinch of salt for all those tears
Shed, by missing and their Families
Seeking answers to their questions
From all those faraway countries.
The Bible represents the strength
Gained through Faith, to sustain
Those missing on foreign shores
Where, far too many, still remain!
Each of their glasses are inverted
Because, they can’t share the toast
That, one day we can account for them
What we want, first and foremost.
The candle is a light of Hope
To illuminate the way back home
To the loved ones who are waiting
Across the sea to Homeland’s loam.
The chair just sits there empty
A place saved for just the one
Who has yet, to come home
And one each, for their brethren.
An Honor Guard places covers
On each empty dinner plate
For the Services and Civilian
Who have met, this terrible fate.
“Taps” is played, and “Some Gave All”
With a spotlight on their table
With a toast, for their accounting, sworn
For, as long as we all are able.
This solemn Honors Ceremony
Symbolizes they are here with us
Hoping someday, they will be back
This wish, the most, in God we trust.
This can be done for six or one
For, the meaning is the same
That all, will be returned one day
This, we pray, in Heaven’s Name.
Del “Abe” Jones
It's hard to find, the stories
That, they won't talk about
It's hard, to realize the things
That they had, to go, without.
How can they let the feelings
(Even, they don't understand)
Show to, any other people
In this, Freedom's Land.
We can’t know, the hardships
Unless, we were there
Especially, when they came back home
To those who didn't, seem, to care.
Unless you had, lived through it
Watching, Comrades that had died
Why should they, talk about it to us
Of, the tears, inside, they've cried?
Even, if they chose to tell us
What difference, would it make
Would it be worth the chance
That they, would have to take.
Why should they bare their soul
That's already been, stripped, clean
Because, even with, a picture of it
We couldn't see, what they have seen.
Sometimes, all we have to do
Is, to look into their eyes
And think that we might see or hear
Their, mournful, pain-filled cries.
That POW who came home
Who lived, through that Hell
Can't tell the stories, of the MIA
Who never had, a chance to tell!
So, we may never, ever, know
Of, the horrors, they have, known
And, if we think about it
It's probably best, that they aren't shown!
But there is, always an end
To every, never-ending story
Although sometimes, they’re never told
In, all their Truth and Glory.
So if you ask about it
And if you ever wonder why
They won’t talk of that nightmare
Maybe now, you might know, Why?
For as long as we have Wars
And we send our Young to fight
We’ll have Those who are Missing
And the POWs plight.
All People of this Nation
Have this Duty to fulfill.
We must keep Them in our thoughts
And, We must have the Will
To bring every One home
And do all we can to find
All those POW/MIAs
And leave NO Souls behind.
Ten years of "BITS 'N' PIECES"
By some People who still care
In a search for clues and answers
About Those We left "over there".
Trying to get the military
And all those politicians
To take actions to find Them
With calls, letters and petitions.
It's a sad State of Affairs
When the families and friends
Must lead the Battle in the Search
In this War that never ends.
All those loved ones still Missing
Who went to War for me and you
Deserve much more from our Country
Than just the efforts of those few.
"The National Alliance of Families"
Carries that Banner for us all
To bring home those Forgotten
Who answered our Nation's Call.
Please visit their pages
And give them a helping hand
For if "One Missing" was "One" close to you
Maybe then, you'd understand.
©Copyright 05 September 2004 by Del "Abe" Jones
"The National Alliance of Families"
POW/MIA RECOGNITION DAY
(The third Friday of September)
As time goes on remains are found
And another finds his way back home
After years spent lost on foreign shores
Feeling forgotten and left all alone.
But they will never be forgotten
By the Country they went off to serve
We will search until all are returned
To loved ones, the least they all deserve.
There are new ways to identify
DNA can tell, just who they may be
Those lost in those past conflicts
A Hero home, their final destiny.
War is so terrible and horrific
Worse for the POW and the MIA
All of those unaccounted for
Compounds the price they chose to pay.
Each year, we should all remember
Those we lost in the fog of War
Better yet, take a moment every day
While we appreciate what they fought for.
POW/MIA Recognition Day
Dedicated to honor their memory
For the time or life they gave
To keep this, "The Land of the Free".
Del "Abe" Jones
A National Moment of Remembrance
That poem about where “poppies blow”
And, “the crosses, row on row”
Still rings true , these ninety years
After written, still brings tears.
We still have Dead, “amid the guns”
And lose our young and our loved ones
Those who lived, “short days ago”
Who, “felt dawn, saw sunset glow”.
In Flanders Fields, “the poppy red”
Still grow where the blood was bled
They, “Take up our quarrel with the foe”
And still die for Freedoms that we know.
They pass, “The torch” to, “hold it high”
And not, “break the faith with us who die”
For they, “shall not sleep, though poppies grow”
Beneath all those, “crosses, row on row”
In Flanders Fields.
Del “Abe” Jones
Staff Sgt. Keith Matthew Maupin, R.I.P.
In April of Two thousand-four
Ambushed, just outside, Baghdad
Private First Class when he was captured
The beginning of a War story, so sad.
The years of hope have ended
With, confirmed, remains found
The ending, not what we wanted
Another haunting, of “Taps”, sound.
The Family Proud, amidst the pain
Closure, of having him come home
Another Gold Star Family added
He joins his Brothers, where they roam.
One more, of many stories told
Since we have been going to War
Of countless, POWs, MIAs
We have lost, forevermore.
Some, will return to loved ones
As we still search, for those still lost
For all of those still Missing
In that Action, War can cost.
But, “Leave no one behind!”
MUST BE, our Country's way
Until we find each and every one
And welcome them, back home, one day.
Del “Abe” Jones