A Prayer for Our Armed Forces

Almighty God, we commend to your gracious care and keeping all the men and women of our armed forces at home and abroad. Defend them day by day with your heavenly grace; strengthen them in their trials and temptations; give them courage to face the perils which beset them; and grant them a sense of your abiding presence wherever they may be; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

God Bless America

“While the storm clouds gather far across the sea,
Let us swear allegiance to a land that’s free,
Let us all be grateful for a land so fair,
As we raise our voices in a solemn prayer. ”

God Bless America,
Land that I love.
Stand beside her, and guide her
Thru the night with a light from above.
From the mountains, to the prairies,
To the oceans, white with foam
God bless America, My home sweet home.

—Words and music by Irving Berlin, ©1938, 1939

O Captain My Captain

O Captain my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribboned wreaths for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchored safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

Walt Whitman

The Price

There is a price for everything,
nothing is easy, nothing free.
To be left without wanting,
then you must pay the cost.

With little price paid
and your appreciation lean,
value slips away to fade.
The desired becomes ignored.

If you yearn, if necessity be,
work for it to earn the worth.
Then care for it that you shall see,
the appraisal shall not deflate.

Freedom comes to everyone,
if the price be paid, with blood.
Sacrifice for sake of freedom,
it is not easy and it is not free

—©2002 Roger W Hancock (www.PoetPatriot.com)

Whenever I See A Soldier Boy…

Whenever I see a soldier boy
No matter where it be
I give him salutation
for he means so much to me

He’s not the boy we used to know
In store, at desk or plow
He’s a defender of our faith
He’s in the service now

He keeps Old Glory flying
on land and air and sea
He lives to make our homes secure
He dies to keep us free.

—© 1942  Sam Miller