Poem By Mildred L. Cherry
Is it not a pretty sight?
I asked the people of our banner,
And I tried with all my might
To energize their manner. I held my hand over my heart
And stood, myself in reverent awe,
I did not wish to be apart
From the modern generation Or from those who landed here
In small ships or anyway.
Won't you hold our Nation dear?
Pleadingly and had my say. As the band marched down the street
No hats were donned that sad day.
The little children, clean and sweet,
Knew nothing of our former way Of patriotism strong and bold,
Of love of country, love of men.
I saw a crowd long grown cold,
But I saluted once again. For as long as there is freedom
I shall wave the banner high;
My inherited Kingdom
Is still here beneath the sky; men dishonor and abuse it;
Their woman fail to treat it well.
It is nine; I'll keep and use it
to war against the times of hell. I will teach the love of county
To all the strangers I may meet.
From a turret or a pumpkin
I will blaze it down the street. We must stand to keep this Nation
As it was in days of yore,
When our striped and blessing straighten
Was not thought of as a bore. All the wealth and pomp before us
Cannot keep us safe and strong,
We must not stand silent, cursing,
Once again we need the song. Of the Star Spangled Banner
Pealing forth, our triumph, song,
Our American manner;
We must not, withhold so long. That man dishonor and disclaim it
Let it droop in grievous shame,
Seek to conquer and rename it,
Lose a war and shift the blame. Mildred L. Cherry
Dedicated to American
Soldiers and Peoples