He hears the shouts of battle
as the mighty cannons sound.
Eyes stinging from black powder
he fires his final round.

His body torn and bleeding,
he collapses to the ground.
As darkness falls he wonders
if he ever will be found.

Five suns and moons will rise and set
upon that gory hill
before the air is silent
and the guns have had their fill.

The natives call it slaughter.
The preacher says, "God's will."
It doesn't matter what you call it,
to that soldier on the hill.

His eyes are fixed, and lying still.

I used to have a budget
I don't know where it went.
But it's too late to start one now,
the money's all been spent!

Yet there are still more bills to pay
and some are due tomorrow.
Wishing won't make them go away,
So we'll just have to borrow.

Two dear, sleepy heads, now tucked into bed
with a kiss, and a prayer, and good night's all said.

Each day has its wiggles, its tantrums and giggles
that still to a sigh, as they snuggle in bed.

We tiptoe from their room. Has the day passed so soon?
Did we play enough games? Were enough stories read?

But as morning grows light, sunny faces in sight,
assure me again of a full day ahead!

A new chance to grow, to listen and know,
to love and to treasure, those dear sleepy heads!

Exalted in my estimation,
captured by imagination,
enamored yet by selfish will,
You know me well, but love me still.

You call me out of wilderness
into a place that You can bless.
So tenderly, You let me know
there is no place that I can go -

That separates me from Your heart.
I have been called. I'm set apart.
Though I have wandered from Your will,
You know me well, but love me still.

I quietly slip beyond my door,
leaving behind an unwashed floor.
The heap of *****, crumpled clothes,
the end of which, nobody knows.

I close my door, turn from the mess,
breathe in, and drink of quietness.
Then take my lonely, lovely stroll
deep in the woods to a hidden knoll.

Where I shall dream, and plan, and pray
gaining spirit and strength, for a very full day.

Given with a pledge to bear,
this symbol, timeless, everywhere.
It's smaller, yet the golden sun
is reflected in this one.

A gift of heart and soul and mind,
it can't be any other kind.
To minds of lovers often springs
this token of eternal things.

She hesitates a moment on the stair
uncertain if her daddy knows she's there.
Then, careful to avoid the slightest creak,
descends another, just to take a peek.

With wonder at what's going on below
she longs to be included, and to know.
Until her curiosity's been fed,
there is no point to tucking her in bed!