When my country’s flag is flying
and I’m standing at attention,
far below its waving glory–
blue and white and red, it’s waving
like it waved when Francis Scott Key
penned the Star Spangled Banner
–proud I am to be reciting
pledges to defend my country.
When and if the call comes for me,
will I sacrifice my freedom
for the freedom of all people?
Will I give my life for others?
Marines, airmen, sailors soldiers
in cold graves beneath white crosses,
traded lives for country, gave me
freedom now to live and worship.
How I love them how I thank them
for the blessings I now cherish,
given me because they died for
U.S.A., Beloved Country.
Help me live, teach me to fight for
duty, honor that they fought for.
Keep Old Glory up there waving,
high above my treasured Heartland,
U.S.A., Beloved Country.
© Freeda Baker Nichols
Moving poem! I love your photographs of the symbols of our freedom.
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Thank you, Patricia.
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Great poem, Freeda!
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Thank you, Catherine!
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Love this! You are a gifted writer.
If you don’t mind my asking, who is Amy Ragland’s mother and grandparents on that side. I really enjoyed talking to her when she delivered the rocke.
Martha
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Thanks, Martha. I sent a reply through Facebook messages.
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Amen and amen, Freeda. Well said.
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Our flag, the eagle, and our country . . . so dear to our hearts . . . thanks for your comment, Dorothy.
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