Freedom’s Price (Tuscan Strombata)
When dreary death treads on fallow fields of woe,
Where life is savored sweetly as souls survive.
As wounds are bound, and the winds of victory blow,
Battlefields are slowly cleared by those alive.
We grieve for those lost, whose sacrifice was made
For freedom freely given as prices paid.
We much too often take these things for granted,
Forgetting how dear freedom’s seeds were planted.
|Author Notes Freedom is not Free. Fourth of July, Memorial Day, and Veteran’s Day are more than just days off, to play.