This page, WRITE TO A PICTURE, is an invitation to our regular writers and to our visitors. Send an original poem, a story, or your recollections. Share your thoughts and experiences with those who like to READ what others write. Send to me at LaraOct7@aol.com.

 Early 'Write To A Picture' pages are archived. The links are here:

Beach Scene "1"
Old Train Station "2"
The Carousel "3"
The Fifties "4"
Summer Picnic "5"
From The Heart "6"
Cloudy Moon "7"
September Morn "8"
Passing The Time "9"
Apples "10"
Rain "11"
Pumpkins "12"
Halloween "13"
Big City "14"
Remembrance Day "15"





 


Your Title

By Your Name (LaraOct7@aol.com)







Remembrance Day. I can't think of a more fitting picture for our Remembrance Day theme than this one of our National Cemetery in Arlington, VA. Since I live in the suburbs of Washington, DC, I have been able to visit the cemetery many times. I have been there in the spring, in the summer, in the fall, in the winter, and it is always an emotional experience.

I have seen the Changing-of-the-Guard ceremony several times. When the guards appear and begin their routine, a hush falls over the crowd. The slap of glove on the rifle, the click of the heels, and the perfect posture of these guards command your attention, and the dedication these men have to their duty makes me very proud to be an American.

Have you had any personal experiences around Remembrance Day that you would like to share? Submit your memories, musings, a poem or a story. Fiction or fact, we look forward to your entry.






 


Remembrance Day

By Mikey (Norma1223@aol.com)





UNDER WHITE CROSSES
YOUNG MEN AND WOMEN AT PEACE
HAVING GIVEN ALL

*

REMEMBERING THEM
IS THE DUTY OF US ALL
LEST THEY BE FORGOT









 


Remembrance Day

By Sharon (Sunyskys1943@aol.com)





Lonely are the widows left behind
With spouses gone who will mind
Children without Dad to help ease way
Our freedom bought soldiers pay


Laid deep to rest in cold forlorn ground
They no longer are around
Lonely tears a mother starts to cry
To her son a sad goodbye


These young men went to war for others
Leaving behind their mothers
Wives and children must go it alone
Listen while they cry and moan


Life for those left behind from the war
Will be sad forever more
heroes fought and died far from their home
Laid to rest no longer roam


Courageous families of fallen men
How to thank just can't begin
For the ones left to go it alone
Are heroes too here at home









 


He Was A Sailor

By Doris (Toto38@aol.com)





He died when I was almost seven years old, and my memories of him are very few. Mom said he fought in WWI, in the Navy, and was a featherweight boxing champ on The Cristobel. He traveled the seven seas, my dad, and told many stories of all the ports he visited.

During WWII he worked in the ship yards in Brooklyn and New Jersey as a steamfitter. One afternoon he was carrying a pipe along the deck when he heard the call to abandon ship! He was on the U.S.S. Normandy that was being refitted as a troop ship, and it was on fire! As he was passing a gang plank he dropped the pipe and ran off the ship. The Normandy capsized in New York waters. My dad told his story to a reporter for a local newspaper and, when it came out in print, my mom used to say, "your dad beat the rats off the sinking ship."








 


Remembrance Day

By Amy (Fabulousfilly@aol.com)





oh on that day i heard the news
i was so sad i was so blue
my uncle who survived the great war
had died of cancer, only fifty four
he lied about his age to go
served his country dont ya know
they sent off in fine style
flags and guns, and rank and file


but when they played that song taps
i lost it, then i watched the flags
flying in the wind above
and i knew he had GODS LOVE.


IN MEMORY OF UNCLE JIMMY ..









 


Remembrance Day

By Tom (tomWYO@aol.com)





Slowly the old man on crutches made his way along the road, as an old lady, a young woman carrying a baby, and a small girl dressed in pink followed. “This is section A, Dad,” the young woman said. The old lady stopped to catch her breath.

The old man, whose vision was not what it was back then, stopped, looked up, and in a very sedate voice announced, "I can see it, Momma. Mary I can see it.” He took two steps off the road and into the newly fallen snow. “Come Ellie, up here is where Daddy is buried.”

Slowly the three adults and two children made their way to the marker for which they were looking. The old man removed his cap and looked down at his grandson’s last resting place. He said a silent pray, lowered his head, and asked the man above to cease the fighting. “Lord, as you can see, I got it. My Dad never made it to the beach at Normandy, and my son was lost. Now my grandson has given his all for our freedom. Isn’t it about time to back off a little, and to watch over what is left of the Raymond Bear Don’t Walk’s family?”

The young girl knelt in front of the marker and laid a simple spray of violets there. Grandma had placed a towel on the ground for her to kneel on.

“Poppa, look at it. Look at the white snow and the wreaths with a ribbon on each one. Poppa, you think Little Ray went to heaven, for he, like all of you before him, have already gone through hell?” Grandma wiped the baby's eyes with a small handkerchief she kept in her sleeve.

“It is a splendid site Momma, it is a splendid site today. I wonder what kind of day it will be when my time comes,” he said in a low voice.

The young woman wiped her eyes and slowly stood, picked up the towel and folded it.

The old man looked about, and slowly, his bent and broken body seemed to rise up. His feet came together and his back straightened. He came to attention and rendered a sharp salute. “Go with god son, Go with God Little Ray. You were a true Bear Don’t Walk. You did your family, your tribe, and your country an honor. You gave your all. Thank you son, I will see you afore long and we will go trout fishing up there.” The old man relaxed and lowered his arm to his side.

He put his cap back on and without saying a word, he turned and slowly made his way down the small incline to the road, his crutches digging into the snow covered ground with each labored step he took.

Grandma, carrying the baby, and the young lady holding her daughter’s hand, followed in single file. They made their way through the fresh snow back to the road.

When they reached the road they turned and looked up over the large field covered with small markers, each with a wreath in front of it, and accentuated by the freshly fallen snow. They stood, bowed their heads, and sang a song of praise to their fallen loved one. Then they proceeded back to the parking lot, the old man thinking of, and wondering about the reasons so many had to and are now dying.








 


Remembrance Day

By Joy (JOY3032@aol.com)





The somber rows of sorrow
Dressed for the holiday
Can't ever change the feelings
That we feel most every day


Those strong brave men of ours
Who died for their conviction
Never having to be sent
By government conscription


Ideals that lived deep in their soul
They felt that they must take a part
To change the face of tragedy
But they only had a start


We hear the death knell
Like teardrops gently falling
A knife plunged deep in our heart
Hearing all their voices calling


There must be a better way
To bring peace on earth to all
Than to give our best to the earth
And see the young men fall


Dear God please change our hearts
And let us find the way
To bring peace and harmony
On this Remembrance Day









 


Arlington National Cemetery

By Jeanie (Mingo184@aol.com)





LET US REMEMBER THE FALLEN
NOW LONG GONE
LET US REMEMBER THEM IN PRAYER
AND A PATRIOTIC SONG.


LET'S NOT FORGET WHY THEY DIED
AND BENEATH THESE HALLOWED GROUNDS
THEIR SOULS DO HIDE


WE LOOK AT THE MARKED STONES
WITH NAMES UNKNOWN TO US
BUT THEIR SACRIFICE WAS
DEFINITELY A HUGE PLUS


A PLUS TO ADD TO OUR FREEDOM
A PLUS TO ADD TO OUR LIVES
BUT A MINUS FOR THOSE WHO LEFT
THEIR CHILDREN AND THEIR WIVES.


AT THE TOMB OF THE UNKNOWN
THE CHANGING OF GUARDS IS SO QUIET
THE SOUND OF CAMERAS CLICKING
IS ALL THAT IS HEARD.


WE BOW OUR HEADS IN PRAYER
FOR OUR MILITARY BURIED THERE.









 


Remembrance Day

By susi (Texaswishr@aol.com)





wreaths with love and care
placed on graves of our loved ones
never forgotten


tear-stained memories
Christmas never again shared
except in our hearts


on each white headstone
in never ending circles
wreaths of remembrance









 


Remembrance Day

By Swampetta (SWAMPETTA@aol.com)





We have been fighting for so long and this is what we have to show for it,
Long, almost neverending rows of tombstones.
These are those of us who when they were called, answered.
No questions asked. It was the duty of those who lived in America.
Mothers kissed their sons good-bye and cried.
Wives kissed their husbands good-bye and cried.
Sisters kissed their brothers good-bye and cried.
Children kissed their fathers good-bye and didn't understand why others were crying.
There were times when the only thing they had left to remember those who went, was the name on a piece of rock.
In the tomb of the unknown soldier lies someone who was know by someone.
It is our history to fight wars.
We have been doing that ever since we have declared our independence.
After many deaths on either side, we have declared our victory.
Sometimes, we couldn't so we called it something else besides a war.
Do the bodies that we buried know that they lost their lives for a "Police Action"?
Or that we were only there as "Advisers"?
Vietnam was "My" war. My friends went. I have lived through WWll and the Korean 'War'
but I was a child and didn't know what war was.
When my friends went to places like Danang and Hanoi, I did know what that word meant.
It meant that when Billy and Jack didn't return and when Ed came back and
stayed in a VA Hospital for several years, I had to ask "What for?"
My chlldren escaped the pull of war because they were too young for Vietnam.
I am terrified that my Grandsons may find themselves in Iraq.
I am scared that I will have to remember them by what tombstone they are under.
Why must we kill for peace?
Is it still the caveman who lives in us, just under the civilized surface?
Honor those who had little choice and went to the end of their life to give us choices.
And for the sake of those who did that, keep them always present in your memory.
And stop making war on those who also have lives to keep and children and wives and mothers to kiss good-bye.









 


Remembrance Day

By Brier (Brierhillbarbara@aol.com)





REMEMBER
NEVER FORGET
THOSE WHO GAVE THEIR ALL
ALL THEY HAD TO GIVE.


I WILL NEVER FORGET
ALWAYS REMEMBER THOSE WHO DIED
FOUGHT FOR THEIR COUNTRY
GIVE THEM HEAVENLY PEACE


IT IS MY COUNTRY TOO
THANK YOU
ALL WHO FOUGHT FOR MY COUNTRY
I WILL NEVER FORGET


BLESS YOU ALL WHO GAVE THAT
I MIGHT BE FREE
FREE IN THE LAND OF THE BRAVE
I WILL NEVER FORGET









 


Ode To Veterans

By Mary (MusingByMary@aol.com)





What is a veteran, you ask
just WHO and WHAT are they? . . .
veterans are so many things
I'll share a few today ~


Veterans have served their country
in time of war or peace . . .
they did not shirk their duty
but stood for their beliefs ~


Veterans will ne'er forget
the sound of reveille . . .
and bugler's passionate, plaintive
taps resounds their memory ~


Veterans have flown the skies
and ridden waves at sea . . .
countless white crosses dot the
land in precious memory ~


Remembrance Day & Veteran's Day
recall brave stories told . . .
ingrained within their hero~hearts
worth more to us than gold ~


Duty ~ Honour ~ Faithfulness
attributes to name a few . . .
we ever hold you near our hearts
our heroes brave and true!




Mary Carter Mizrany
Veteran's Day ~ 11~11~06 ~ Remembrance Day









 


To Those Who Love

By Norma (Twi1ite@sbcglobal.net)





It is quiet here;
It is peaceful;
No guns rumble,
No tanks roll.


And this is so
Because across the world
There is another place
With flag unfurled midst terror.


Where mothers’ children
Have taken arms, willing,
Rising above their own fears
To protect us and our own.


Since time began,
Killers have risen
With perferted hearts,
Power mad.


For those who stand up,
Those who give the last measure,
People who love peace
Will forever honor you.


We will pray in our lives
That someone, somewhere,
Will say "No more war," and then
Your may lay down your arms.


And come home.








 


A Day of Remembrance - Is For Remembering It All

By Evelyn (Evenccw@aol.com)





November 11 has been commemorated as Veterans Day, and now as Remembrance Day. Its original title, Armistice Day, no offense, still holds a place in my heart. In my early years, each Armistice Day a poppy appeared on the dining room table in honor of my Uncle Nick who died in World War I. Uncle Nick is buried in France.

Mama had a special affinity for the poem, “In Flanders Fields.” and the horrors of the battle at Ypres in Belgium where the legendary poppies bloomed in profusion. Many years later, in 1987, I stood in mute silence scanning the sea of stone markers under which rest the brave young men who died in that terrible battle. The poppy is a symbol that will forever be linked with John McCrae’s poem and the silenced voices of those brave men and women who have died in war and continue to be heard each Remembrance Day..



In Flanders Fields

by Lt. Col. John McCrae 1915



In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place, and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.


We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.


Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.


During the “Great War,” later to be known as World War I, my grandparents displayed the Blue Star Service Banner in their dining room window. The two stars represented Uncle Nick and Uncle Joe who served in Europe. When Uncle Nick died “over there,” one blue star was replaced with a gold one. Uncle Nick and Uncle Joe were the eldest sons in a family of thirteen children. In 1941 another Blue Star Service Banner was hung with one star representing my Uncle Carl when he was drafted into the Army Air Force in World War II. Uncle Carl was but two years old when his brothers went off to the war that was to have “ended all wars.”

And the beat went on. Using my Uncle Carl as a model, war and service in the armed forces throughout our extended family has been generational. Uncle Carl’s brothers served in WWI. He served four years in WWII. He was passed over by the Korean Conflict, but two of his three sons served in Vietnam. And his grandsons have known tours of duty such as Desert Storm and Iraq.

I was eleven years old when Pearl Harbor was struck on December 7, l941. The words of the song, “I’ll Be Back in a Year Little Darling,” quickly became passé. We were at war. While picking strawberries in late April, my Daddy was served with his draft papers I cried till I thought my heart would break. Being of the outer age limit, hewas not accepted for the draft. However, every able-bodied young man in the neighborhood was drafted. Years later I wrote in remembrance:



ARTIST’S PROFILE



I wrote this poem in memory of my Cousin Jim, who was like a big brother to me. We were raised on farms in northern Alabama (homesteaded by our great-grandfather) when cotton was king. It was a hard life, but an honest and a good life. It was a sad day when the young, strong men like Jim were called to war after the bombing of Pearl Harbor and WWII was declared. It still saddens me when I remember the fields being tilled and harvested by the very young and the very old. I wrote this poem in Cousin Jim's memory and in the honor of all who have ever served their country


You Could Set the Clock by Him Then He Went to War

To each and every one who has waved a soldier off to war-- all wars.



first bell chimes filled the air
drifting out across the farms.
Sunday upon Sunday morning
it was the Lord's call to arms.
across the fields, surely enough
he was in view, strutting his stuff.
you could set the clock by him
walking to the 8:00 each Sunday
that was our cousin Jim.
on those Sundays, unbeknownst
to him, he kept us straight
until one sad day WWII threw
wide open its atrocious gates.
when we gazed on the horizon
at half past the hour
we heard the church bells
and our hearts felt sorrow.
his country had called
and Jim's feet went
marching off to war.



Before long ration stamps became a type of currency. Every household became a part of the WWII home front war effort. Living on the farm we always had plenty of butter and didn’t worry too much about meat, but sugar and coffee always seemed scarce. The year that we canned peaches without sugar was a low point.

The years passed and I began to have joyful adult fun in my courting days I thought that the heartache of watching a soldier sweetheart going off to war had passed me by. Wrong. Before long I was waving Tom off to the Korean Conflict. After a year had gone by, I became a serviceman’s wife! The years have passed and we have been blessed with a son and five daughters, none of whom have served in the armed forces. Though, in 1972, John came close to being conscripted into the Vietnam War. He drew a low number. To date, none of our six grandsons are choosing the service life and the government has not seen fit to choose it for them. However, I feel very proud when, after Mass near “Remembrance Day” our pastor asks all Veterans to stand. When Tom rises to his feet I applaud the loudest.

On this Day of Remembrance I choose to recall and applaud the sacrifices made by every American who ever sent a loved one off to war. And beyond that, every effort made in their behalf to support them in their tours of duty to keep us safe and secure I ponder and I wonder about our role in Iraq. In March of 2003

Arctic winds howled through barren, leafless trees
While our troops were awaiting, across the seas,
Orders for their mission, to end the terrorist reign
And bring to justice a dictator named Hussein.
By satellite and photography,
We’ve had lessons in the geography
Of the land of a Thousand and One Arabian Nights,
Where Aladdin’s carpet over Baghdad made his flights
In Mid-March, it was “bombs away.” With savoir-faire
Bombs hit their targets from high in the air.
A sand-blown phalanx braked for camels. It was bizarre.
In an unremitting Reality Show, we were off to war.



By the fall of 2004 we were still at war, and



Our hearts have been burdened by the war in Iraq.
It’s now almost two years. Is there no turning back?
Precious cargo of flag-covered caskets–so quietly they lie–
flying home to their birth land for a final goodbye.
Please hug and embrace all of those you hold dear
and pray for our troops who, for us, persevere.
Harking back to nineteen forty-four
Many still remember a world steeped in war.



In the fall of 2005



Eyes and hearts kept straining to the East,
with prayers that war in Iraq should cease,
Fingers were dipped in purple ink–after fifty years–
“Ballot Box Over Violence” a symbol amid cheers.




As we celebrate Remembrance Day November 11, 2006, over the lumps in our throats, our eyes and hearts keep straining to the East. As we pray for the war in Iraq to cease, the sad wail of TAPS will be heard far and wide, and we will all stand still, wipe a tear and REMEMBER . . .



TAPS



Day is done,
gone the sun,
From the hills,
from the lake,
From the skies.
All is well,
safely rest,
God is nigh.
Go to sleep,
peaceful sleep.
May the soldier
or sailor,
God keep.
On the land
or the deep,
Safe in sleep.
Love, good night,
Must thou go,
When the day,
And the night
Need thee so?
All is well.
Speedeth all
To their rest.
Fades the light;
And afar
Goeth day,
And the stars
Shineth bright,
Fare thee well;
Day has gone,
Night is on.
Thanks and praise,
For our days,
'Neath the sun,
Neath the stars,
'Neath the sky,
As we go,
This we know,
God is nigh.




Now, dear Lord I pray:


Hold our troops in your loving hands. Protect them as they protects us. Bless them and their families for the selfless acts they perform for us in our time of need. God Bless America!








 

 

 

 



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