"The
Flag"
By: E. H. Coe
Wave the Flag, boys,
Wave it high.
And think about the
days gone by.
Wave it high,
For blood that's shed,
And through the years,
for men that's dead.
Wave it high,
All eyes upturned,
It's made to wave, but
not to burn.
May men who would put
you to flame,
Live forever, in their
shame.
And keep their eyes
down till they die,
And never see you wave
on high.
E.H. Coe 1972
THE FLAG
Our Flag, though it is made of cloth,
To me is something more.
The red stripe is the blood of men,
Who died on foreign shores.
The white stripe is the bandages,
That covered wounds and say,
The blue one, how they must have felt,
With loved ones far away.
The stars, are the one's they must have saw,
At night as they lay there.
Knowing that another night,
They'd never, never, share.
Now, how can we show disrespect,
For this Flag in the air,
As we think back, of all the men,
Who helped to put it there.
© E. H. C. 73.
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