He always was a soldier
From the cradle one could say
He loved to listen to those tunes
Of patriotism as he played

His favorite playthings when he was three
Was toy soldiers his grandpa gave
Oh, I thought he was too young for them
They were given for his birthday

But he would line them up
And shout orders like a pro
"Stand tall...walk straight..."
And on and on he'd go

When he was older it was tanks not cars
That held his fascination
His army tanks would rumble down
Worn paths in the yard...his station

He talked about his grandpa and his dad
Looked at their pictures in uniform
He knew all about their serving
Keeping us safe here at home from harm

As a high school lad he made good grades
A lawyer I thought he could be
Or perhaps a teacher or doctor
But he wanted to be none of these

The week after graduation
He traded his cap and gown
For a uniform, a soldier's life
With a smile and wave...left town

Yes, always a soldier, my son
Gone to serve his country, he was brave
His patriotic music, his toys packed away
He was a soldier from the cradle to the grave

My soldier, my son, came home again
No welcome hugs for my son
They buried my son with honors today
A Bugler played Taps when they buried my son

Jene' Lind © May 10, 2005
A special thanks to our Sister-In-Christ for this heart felt poem God Bless my friend. Dedicated to our fallen heroes and their families ! ! !