Poetry

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Sands of Time

© 1991 Jeanne E Webster. All rights reserved

(This poem is dedicated to my son, who fought in the Persian Gulf War, 1991)



It’s time to go to war, my son.

Do you hear that distant drum?

Ill winds are kicking up the sand

Down there in Kuwaiti land.

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Load those missiles; pack your gear;

The battle time draws near.

DESERT SHIELD screams on high:

“Saddam! Saddam! Goodbye!!!”

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Upon the sand, the line is drawn.

Don’t quiver; prove your brawn!

The “birds” are flying high and low

To soften up the blow.

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The dune . . .the dunes are beckoning;

’Tis the day of reckoning!

Amid the smoke and wind-blown sand

Lies victory from God’s hand.

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DESERT STORM is quick and fierce,

As Saddam’s might is pierced.

The Lord your God is with you, Son;

Fight on till all is done.

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Far and wide across the dunes

The bloodied foe lies strewn.

White flags are waving over Iraq.

It’s time to head on back . . .

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. . . back home to loved ones seeking you,

Dressed in red, white and blue;

Bright yellow ribbons tied everywhere

To show you that we care.

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Oh . . .the hearts overflow with tears,

Shedding all those pent-up fears;

Eyes meet. . . nervous feet run. . .

It’s hugs and kisses for everyone!

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Give thanks for God’s loving care;

Our burdens He helped us bear.

Each day His tender mercies renew:

He whispers, “Son, I love you!”

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