Trying to bring the Midwest 5 home
Joyce English-Hammock
It has been a while since the Midwest 5
has been gone
Many are hoping and praying they
can bring their loved ones home
They are trying to raise some
type of funds
Parents and family members
would like to see and hold their
songs
No one knows how long it
might take
We are praying diligently, we can
get them before they break
You cannot help but wonder what
they are going through
In our minds, we are thinking
Oh my God, there must be
something else that we can do
Wouldn’t it be great to bring them
home for the holidays
Really, if you stop and think about
it, Christmas is not that far away
Can you imagine the tears and joyful
expressions, the look on everyone’s
faces
Just to get them home, safe and
sound and out of that foreign place
Oh what a momentous occasion
that would be
This indeed would be a glorious
Time for the whole world to see
Curves
Doyle "Bud" Pugh
As we travel through life we must
be careful of the curves that we
come upon,
A curve can be so easily missed, and
a future so quickly gone.
A map to our future can not be
purchased at a nearby store,
Our personal uncharted journey is
a road never traveled before.
Just when you think you have
your future all planned out,
Events will occur that will alter
your chosen route.
But no matter how rough the road ahead may appear to be,
Your strength of character will determine your destiny.
Innocent victims shot and killed
Joyce English-Hammock
They were going about working
and doing some of their
Christmas shopping
When all of a sudden, gunshots
rang out
People were running and hiding
and shouting
This was a troubled young man
his friends and family did all
they can
There were people who were
shot and killed
Oh my God, this is real
Everything happened so fast
It was quick and thank God
it did not last
Their lives taken away
too soon
This horrible tragedy was
so harsh and cruel
The pain the victims families
and friends must have felt
As this terrible tragedy hit
the mall as people
stood by and wept
With the holidays not far
away
Everyone will remember this
truly sad day
Thrift Store Cowboy
Glen Enloe
He’s just a thrift store cowboy, all the folks would say,
Though they did not know him back in a better day.
We watched him pose in old cowboy hats and worn boots,
But he seldom bought them and he called us galoots.
One day I saw him thumbin’ an old saddle’s horn,
And I went up and asked him where he had been born.
“Why, Texas, ‘course,” he muttered as he drew up proud –
“That’s why I hate Minnesota!” he said real loud.
I smiled and said, “Thanks,” as pity knotted my guts –
After years workin’ here, you see a lot of nuts.
But there was something in him; made him different –
The way he had ‘bout him was what you’d not forget.
He swaggered in his walk; a downright promenade –
Bowlegged confidence in decisions he had made.
Though I never saw it, they say he begged in town –
I heard he was a vet who was more lost than found.
One day he quit coming – he died the day before –
They said he had some rich kin back in Baltimore.
But it was rumor – they took donations next day,
So they could bury him beneath that frozen clay.
To honor a cowboy – I found a western store –
Bought the finest Stetson that had never been wore.
And at his meager funeral, where I did stand,
I placed that brand new Stetson into his right hand.
He’s just a thrift store cowboy, all of us would say,
But we never knew him back in that better day.
The Pain felt by our Troops
Joyce English-Hammock
Our troops are finally coming
home
No more calling love ones
by phone
They appear happy on the
outside
Many of our troops have
lost their lives
What are they really going
through
Many come home feeling
blue
What are the parents and
the families to do
Our troops are constantly
pleading for help
As parents and loved ones
stood by and wept
Deep down in their hearts
they have suffered a
lot of pain
Will they ever be the same
again?
Santa-Cali-Gon
Doyle “Bud” Pugh
As the waning days of
summers sun casts a
hue to the Western sky,
It is time once more to celebrate
the events of days gone by.
It was from Independence
Missouri where the westward
trails would divide,
Now from the origin of those
trails we honor them
with pride.
The Santa Fe was a trail to
the southwest the explorers
would chart,
As they laid forth a route for
those not faint of heart.
The California trail would
prove to be a challenging test,
As the trail blazers embarked
upon that arduous quest.
To meet the overland need for a
northerly Oregon trail,
Here too those persistent
adventureres would thus
prevail.
Horse, mule and oxen-drawn
wagon trains each proved
their worth,
As they drove forth over great
obstacles of that vast
untamed earth.
Though tried and trail weary
from traveling till dusk from
dawn,
Those defiant pathfinders
would relentlessly drudge on.
While unexpected perils would
affront them along the way,
They too would prove worthy of
the challenges of each
new day.
It was those wishful dreams
which they had chosen
to embrace,
That would prepare them for
the trials they were destined
to face.
The seeking heart of man can
unlikely be for naught,
Once he dares upon the path
his dreams had sought.
Here from the birth place of
the trails west,
May we today salute those
brave souls long since laid
to rest.
