I Am The Flag

Posted: under "DID YOU KNOW", General Poetry, Inspirational Poetry.
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Yankee Doodle/Patriotic Poetry
I Am The Flag
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Image

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I am the flag of the United States of America.
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I was born on June 14, 1777, in Philadelphia.
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There the Continental Congress adopted my stars and stripes as the
national flag.
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My thirteen stripes alternating red and white, with a union of
thirteen white stars in a field of blue, represented a new
constellation, a new nation dedicated to the personal and religious
liberty of mankind.
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Today fifty stars signal from my union, one for each of the fifty
sovereign states in the greatest constitutional republic the world has
ever known.
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My colors symbolize the patriotic ideals and spiritual qualities of
the citizens of my country.
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My red stripes proclaim the fearless courage and integrity of American
men and boys and the self-sacrifice and devotion of American mothers
and daughters.
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My white stripes stand for liberty and equality for all.
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My blue is the blue of heaven, loyalty, and faith.
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I represent these eternal principles: liberty, justice, and humanity.
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I embody American freedom: freedom of speech, religion, assembly, the

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Comments (0) May 31 2010

Oh Say Can You See….I’m Mighty Proud….!

Posted: under General Poetry, Inspirational Poetry.
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Ragged Old Flag 

Patriotic Waving Tattered Shredding American Flag, Old Glory, The Red White and Blue, Stars & Stripes, That Ragged Old Flag by BL1961 

I walked through a county courthouse square,
On a park bench an old man was sitting there.
I said, “Your old courthouse is kinda run down.”
He said, “Naw, it’ll do for our little town.”
I said, “Your flagpole has leaned a little bit,
And that’s a Ragged Old Flag you got hanging on it.

~*~

He said, “Have a seat”, and I sat down.
“Is this the first time you’ve been to our little town?”
I said, “I think it is.” He said, “I don’t like to brag,
But we’re kinda proud of that Ragged Old Flag.”
~*~

“You see, we got a little hole in that flag there
When Washington took it across the Delaware.

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Comments (0) Jul 04 2009

The Tax Poem

Posted: under General Poetry.
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Tax his land, Tax his bed, Tax the table At which he’s fed.
Tax his tractor, Tax his mule, Teach him taxes Are the rule.
Tax his work, Tax his pay, He works for peanuts Anyway!
Tax his cow, Tax his goat, Tax his pants, Tax his coat.
Tax his ties, Tax his shirt, Tax his work, Tax his dirt.
Tax his tobacco, Tax his drink, Tax him if he tries to think.
Tax his cigars, Tax his beers, If he cries, then tax his tears.
Tax his car, Tax his gas, Find other ways To tax his ass.
Tax all he has Then let him know, That you won’t be done till he has no dough.

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Comments (0) Apr 24 2009

THESE EYES OF MINE

Posted: under General Poetry.
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THESE EYES OF MINE HAVE SEEN LOTS OF PAIN AND SHED MANY TEARS.

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THESE EYES OF MINE HAVE SEEN DEATH AND WONDERED WHY IT HAD TO BE.

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THESE EYES OF MINE HAVE LOOKED TO THE SKY WATCHING THE BEAUTY THAT IT HOLDS.

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THESE EYES OF MINE HAVE READ MANY BOOKS, LOOKING FOR A SIGN OF HOPE.

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THESE EYES OF MINE HAVE WATCHED THE EVILS OF OTHERS AND PRAY THAT THEY FIND THEIR WAY.

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THESE EYES OF MINE HAVE WATCHED A CHILD PLAY AND REMEMBER A TIME

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Comments (0) Oct 12 2008

THROUGH MY WINDOW

Posted: under General Poetry.

Outside my frosted window pane,
I’ve watched the snowfall, and the rain.
I’ve seen the seasons come and go.
And watched the breezes softly blow.

I’ve seen God’s creatures scurrying by,
And watched the eagles soar on high.
I’ve heard the raindrops kiss the leaves,
And felt God’s whisper in the breeze.

~*~

I see God’s hand as seasons pass,
And watch in awe from behind the glass.
From autumn’s brilliant red and gold,
To winter nights of freezing cold.

When snow white flakes cover the ground,
No brighter diamonds can be found.
The trees and bushes seem to wear,
Crystal white jewels upon their hair.

~*~

And all the land is clean and white,
Now in God’s world, all seems so right.
Then winter soon gives way to spring,
With new found life, and birds that sing.

Then through the earth, the flowers come,
To point their leaves up to the sun.
They grow, and bud, and soon will bear,
Fragrant flowers everywhere.

~*~

Then through my open window sill,
The flower’s fragrance comes at will.
The smell of springtime fills the air.
The touch of God, beyond compare.

How great our Lord, my eyes can see,
Each Blessing that He gives to me.
For summertime is now at hand,
Beside my windowsill, I stand.

~*~

I stand and look out through the glass,
At all the changes that have past.
From winter’s chilly, freezing days,
To springtime flowers, and summer’s haze.

From autumn’s colors, bold and bright,
To quiet days and peaceful nights.
The touch of God is everywhere,
As through my windowpane, I stare.

Written By: Helen Strayer

+++++++++

Wishing you a quiet moment today
to see God’s touch. . .

There is so much beauty to see - we simply must take the time to look.

Comments (0) Sep 15 2008

What Made Me Me

Posted: under General Poetry.

Long ago and far away,
In a land that time forgot,
Before the days of Dylan,
Or the dawn of Camelot.

There lived a race of innocents,
And they were you and me,
Long ago and far away
In the Land That Made Me Me.

Oh, there was truth and goodness
In that land where we were born,
Where navels were for oranges,
And Peyton Place was porn.

For Ike was in the White House,
And Hoss was on TV,
And God was in His heaven
In the Land That Made Me Me.

We learned to gut a muffler,
We washed our hair at dawn,
We spread our crinolines to dry
In circles on the lawn.

And they could hear us coming
All the way to Tennessee,
All starched and sprayed and rumbling
in the Land That Made Me Me.

We longed for love and romance,
And waited for the prince,
And Eddie Fisher married Liz,
And no one’s seen him since.

We danced to “Little Darlin’”,
And Sang to “Stagger Lee”
And cried for Buddy Holly
In the Land That Made Me Me.

Only girls wore earrings then,
And three was one too many,
And only boys wore flat-top cuts,
Except for Jean McKinney.

And only in our wildest dreams
Did we expect to see
A boy named George, with Lipstick
In the Land That Made Me Me.

We fell for Frankie Avalon,
Annette was oh, so nice,
And when they made a movie,
They never made it twice.

We didn’t have a Star Trek Five,
Or Psycho Two and Three,
Or Rocky-Rambo Twenty
In the Land That Made Me Me.

Miss Kitty had a heart of gold,
And Chester had a limp,
And Reagan was a Democrat
Whose co-star was a chimp.

We had a Mr Wizard,
But not a Mr T,
And Oprah couldn’t talk, yet
In the Land That Made Me Me.

We had our share of heroes,
We never thought they’d go,
At least not Bobby Darin,
Or Marilyn Monroe.

For youth was still eternal,
And life was yet to be,
And Elvis was forever,
In the Land That Made Me Me.

We’d never seen the rock band
That was Grateful to be Dead,
And Airplanes weren’t named Jefferson,
And Zeppelins weren’t Led.

And Beatles lived in gardens then,
And Monkees in a tree,
Madonna was a virgin
In the Land That Made Me Me.

We’d never heard of Microwaves,
Or telephones in cars,
And babies might be bottle-fed,
But they weren’t grown in jars.

And pumping iron got wrinkles out,
And “gay” meant fancy-free,
And dorms were never coed
In the Land That Made Me Me.

We hadn’t seen enough of jets
To talk about the lag,
And microchips were what was left at
The bottom of the bag.

And Hardware was a box of nails,
And bytes came from a flea,
And rocket ships were fiction
In the Land That Made Me Me.

Buicks came with portholes,
And side show came with freaks,
And bathing suits came big enough
To cover both your cheeks.

And Coke came just in bottles,
And skirts came to the knee,
And Castro came to power
In the Land That Made Me Me.

We had no Crest with Fluoride,
We had no Hill Street Blues,
We all wore superstructure bras
Designed by Howard Hughes.

We had no patterned pantyhose
Or Lipton herbal tea
Or prime-time ads for condoms
In the Land That Made Me Me.

There were no golden arches,
No Perriers to chill,
And fish were not called Wanda,
And cats were not called Bill.

And middle-aged was thirty-five
And old was forty-three,
And ancient was our parents
In the Land That Made Me Me.

But all things have a season,
Or so we’ve heard them say,
And now instead of Maybelline
We swear by Retin-A.

And they send us invitations
To join AARP,
We’ve come a long way, baby,
From the Land That Made Me Me.

So now we face a brave new world
In slightly larger jeans,
And wonder why they’re using
Smaller print in magazines.

And we tell our children’s children
of the way it used to be,
Long ago, and far away
In the Land That Made Me Me.

~author unknown~

Comments (0) Aug 15 2008