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- Jul 11, 2004
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PEACE KEEPERS
by John A Silkstone
Tall and straight like a ram rod
They stand in lines of three
Of to war they’re going
To fight in a far country.
How we pray they’d all return
To this their land of birth
Marching tall in perfect step
Not to be buried in cold earth.
Though fate decreed that some must die
While others suffer in pain
For life and limb are taken away
While a mother takes the strain.
On bended knee at a white stone cross
From her eyes the tears will flow
Yet deep within her memories
Her son will grow and grow.
by John A Silkstone
Tall and straight like a ram rod
They stand in lines of three
Of to war they’re going
To fight in a far country.
How we pray they’d all return
To this their land of birth
Marching tall in perfect step
Not to be buried in cold earth.
Though fate decreed that some must die
While others suffer in pain
For life and limb are taken away
While a mother takes the strain.
On bended knee at a white stone cross
From her eyes the tears will flow
Yet deep within her memories
Her son will grow and grow.
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