O weapon, long-neglected, standing there
Dust-gathering in a corner of my room,
Forget these useless yeers–dispel your gloom.
I touch your blade tonight with loving care,
As did your lord and master, my forbear,
And sense the tension of a pent-up doom
For all save you, and War, and cannon’s boom;
And yet, through sturdy you, I am aware,
By trading well-loved, known, and handled books,
And easy chair, and slippers by the fire,
And warm dry clothes, and comfy sheltered nooks,
Small bit of privacy when we retire,
For such as you, we make a nation free.
My turn is now ….. In spirit, go with me!
by Ray Romine Wednesday, December 15, 1943
