Patriotism Poems (214)

In Memory Of A Warrior Poet

Wallace would not stay his arm’s long sword
nor the enemy, William’s own highland horde!
Because of the barbaric act of a cruel King foe
justice from a Scot’s husband his people now know!
Our warrior died with the loving of his wife
embroidered in his braveheart for eternal life!
Yet the arrogant enemy let his voice echo clear
to fly North for all true Scotsmen to hear!

No enemy can destroy a nation’s pride
No man’s freedom can a King deride
No mist is seen to hide the flower
No blade can cut away love’s power!

As my pen and national sword now collide
alas this patriot poet cannot describe
the man who fought and died in glory
for that warrior poet told his own story!

Now, if Scotland has no use for my peaceful pen
I cannot use a sword to see right done again!
The dream of a man and the spirit of a nation
today, cannot be satisfied with confrontation!
Though all Scots people must always remember
our greatest warrior who would not surrender!
Forget not also that his times are long gone
to be a free nation now we must all stand as one!

sonofadam

BOOM BOOM BOOM
THE GUNS OF THE OPPERSSOR SPOKE THERE MESSAGE OF DEATH
MANY BRAVE MEN THE BLACK REAPER THAT DAY MET.
EASTER SUNDAY 1916 IN IRELANDS CAPITAL CITY WHEN THE MIGHT OF THE BRITISH EMPIRE SHOWED US LITTLE PITY.
THE GPO WAS UNDER SEIGH BUT IRELANDS SONS WERE STRONG
THE TRI COLOUR BLEW IN THE BREEZ AS THE REBELS WERE FIRED APON


SOME SAID TAKEING UP ARMS WAS NOT THE RIGHT SULTSHON BUT HOW EALS TO GET FREE FROOM A FOREIGN CONSTITUTION
AS DUBLIN SHEAD HER TEARS OF WAR MANY HARTS WERE LIGHT FOR ALL TRUE IRISHMEN KNEW THER CAUSE WAS RIGHT.


FOR 7 DAYS BLODDY AND SCARED WITH SPIRITS NEVER WAVERING PLEDGED TO FIGHT TO THE LAST MAN A NATION IN THE MAKEING
AND DO THE LOST THAT EASRERTIDE THEIR MEMORIES ARE NOT FORSAKING THEY DIED MAYTHERS FOR THEIR BELIVES A CREDIT TO ANY NATHION


GERARD O KEEFFE

Sons Of Scotland

It is sad to hear a summer’s last gasp sigh
as through balding forests rising winds cry,
when sweet and sour notes fill Autumn’s ear
a year’s sun filled season’s last tune we hear!
Far more sad when on foreign shore we stand
listing the tender memories of our own land.
Memories of legends from youth and infancy
taught in our Scottish schools as a legacy!
Chief of historic tales, Wallace of Caledon
waking clannish memories in each Scottish son.
Whether on a far off scorching coast we toil
or north, on the Arctic’s freezing snowy soil
hearing music of our land we close sad eyes
rousing our patriotism, then illusions arise!
Our souls open to where once we would dwell
the waving trees in forests and the lochs swell.
Each wanderer has visions feeding his brain
of reaching his native Scottish shore again!
Are such feelings for the homesick confined
now just awakening in a Scot’s poetic mind?
All patriots know their truth is on this page
not least for far off Scottish tears to engage!
From Westminster to beyond China’s red fire
sons of Scotland are there, always to inspire.
The proudest Scottish thinkers to all we give
as part of us, our ancestors will always live,
more proudly now, for all the world approved
of Scotland, from where its sons first moved!

sonofadam

We stand for what we believe in through all our pain and grief.

Although our friends and neighbors look in disbelief.

The rich seem to control our life as they roll the dice, while the poor stay poor and the middleclass have to pay the price.

Our troops on foreign soil fall down every day, while here at home we struggle with bills we have to pay.

Politicians all have words that make them look so great, but once their seated in the white house they don’t need words for bait.

We seem to wonder why our country lost that guide, to make us strong and prosper and not fall on our side.

This is the strongest nation a melting pot of such, with all our races and creeds we’ve grown so very much.