I walk amongst a garden.
A garden of heroes’
Young and old.
My life is full of riches.
My Heroes are Gold.
My Great Grandfather fought in World War 2,
He had no injury
But still came home to us.
And Great Grandfather gave me Grandpa.
Uncle Rick fought in Viet Nam,
The loudest battle there ever was.
Dad was in Desert Storm, Iraq.
Korea called our family,
To sent a hero too.
They heard about the garden
Of heroes that we grew.
The rows are bearing labels.
Of heroes planted there
I water my garden heavily
With tears of hope and prayer.
I know you have a garden,
Of heroes like mine.
Whose names we can’t remember,
Of heroes that pick
When it comes time to harvest,
Will be taken from our gardens
Because we grow the best
Of the heroes
Of air, Land, and Sea.
Sherrie Peterson
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/garden-of-heros/
