Dec 7, 1941
On this day 71 years ago, the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. When it was over, 2500 sailors, soldiers, and civilians had lost their lives and America was at war. Since then, thousands more have fallen in defense of freedom. Today, we still greet each day with the flag shrouded caskets of our heroes coming home to say goodbye. Let’s take a moment to offer them all a prayer and a salute.
TAPS
Alone upon a windswept hill, a single bugler stands
A song of solace in his heart, his horn held in his hands
Day is done, gone the sun, the mournful notes he blows
From the lakes, from the hills, from the sky, the lyric goes
You cannot hear it and forget, those for whom it’s meant
You cannot help but shed a tear for those to whom it’s sent
The haunting sound that says goodnight, also says goodbye
Calling the fallen to their rest, they’re safe now, God is nigh
About oldmainer
I am a retired manager living in Southern Maine and a would be writer of poetry, narratives, short stories, and random opinions, and that's how Oldmainer was born. Recently, I decided to try an experiment. I added photography to the mix, using only a cheap cell phone with a limited camera and the editing software that came with it, and added the blog site Inklings at poormanspoet.wordpress.com to showcase the results. So, feel free to use whatever you find interesting or worthy, but please honor the terms of my copyright when and if you do. They may not be much, but they are still a piece of me. I appreciate your checking me out and hope that you find something that will encourage a return visit. Thanks for stopping by.
oldmainer 
A Salute
Dec 7, 1941
On this day 71 years ago, the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. When it was over, 2500 sailors, soldiers, and civilians had lost their lives and America was at war. Since then, thousands more have fallen in defense of freedom. Today, we still greet each day with the flag shrouded caskets of our heroes coming home to say goodbye. Let’s take a moment to offer them all a prayer and a salute.
TAPS
Alone upon a windswept hill, a single bugler stands
A song of solace in his heart, his horn held in his hands
Day is done, gone the sun, the mournful notes he blows
From the lakes, from the hills, from the sky, the lyric goes
You cannot hear it and forget, those for whom it’s meant
You cannot help but shed a tear for those to whom it’s sent
The haunting sound that says goodnight, also says goodbye
Calling the fallen to their rest, they’re safe now, God is nigh
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About oldmainer
I am a retired manager living in Southern Maine and a would be writer of poetry, narratives, short stories, and random opinions, and that's how Oldmainer was born. Recently, I decided to try an experiment. I added photography to the mix, using only a cheap cell phone with a limited camera and the editing software that came with it, and added the blog site Inklings at poormanspoet.wordpress.com to showcase the results. So, feel free to use whatever you find interesting or worthy, but please honor the terms of my copyright when and if you do. They may not be much, but they are still a piece of me. I appreciate your checking me out and hope that you find something that will encourage a return visit. Thanks for stopping by.