Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

The newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness around the world.

May 26, 2007

Today’s Announcements

Hi Carol and Everyone at Storytime Tapestry,

I was so touched by Joe Mazzella’s  piece this morning.  I know there is sunshine outside this morning, though I can't see beyond my file cabinets and all.  I intend to go outside later and enjoy some of it; however, right now, my writing calls.

I just wanted to say that Joe hit on a truth that we often forget. That we don't need earthly riches as man seems to define them.  We already have riches beyond imagine if we have faith.

I have been trying to talk to my son about that, and not doing a very good job of it.  He's seems to be too busy to do the research needed to be convinced the Bible is true.  Funny, I once felt that way.  Maybe he's more like me than I thought.  I pray he finds the truth.

Beyond that I wanted to report the last I heard, my friend Tony is doing well.  They may have already moved him out of the ICU.  I will try to get an update.

Please continue to pray for my pastor's wife, Janeen.  Her tests are Wednesday.

As always, may you have,

Love, Peace and Joy,

Pam Garlick: K_P_Garlick@msn.com

Poetry Corner in honor of Memorial Day in the USA

~**~**~

 Warrior Wives
© April 2007 by Gary Jacobson

http://namtour.com/WarriorWives.html

War leaves its horrible mark on warrior souls
As a warrior's wife with forever nightmarish terror cajoles
Warrior and wife apart … for each other wept
Each facing death's specter each anguished step
Constantly reminding in fevered mind kept
Grievous horrors in each mind leapt
Suffering war's tragic slings and arrows
Dealing with a helmet-full of sorrows
Fearing darkness in nightmarish dreaded jungle
Looking askew from every angle
For death’s minions can come from anywhere
To the fabric of sweet life tear
Life carries stresses of abiding fear and prayer
Hiding deep brooding tears that show we care
For a warrior and wife bearing sickle and scythe
Bloodthirsty gun or knife.

But no matter for warriors how bad … how utterly sad
The pain is somehow worse for warrior wives
Living and smiling through war’s harsh abrasives
Waiting for her man-of-war… so helpless, waiting…
For every day, every night, she feels all things
Feels worse with fear not knowing brings
Feeling intimately each dagger of horror
Screaming silently in her heart of desperate terror
Every day, she walks the walk beside her loved one
Sleeping each fitful night fearing knife or gun
Boring into her soul her rising sun ... her beloved one
Fearing darkness of dreaded jungle she has not seen
Fearing death’s minions who from anywhere careen
To snuff out the light in her beloved’s eyes
To her sweet pure love cannibalize.

Waiting helplessly, the wife of the warrior's waiting
Waiting … knowing she cannot protect him
Each day dying inside … hope fading dim
Knowing there's nothing she can do to save him…
His life … his fate, only in the hands of God’s of war
To whom she doth with every breath breathed implore
In dreams… so far from loving arms
In dreams… walking in variegated field of harms
Remembering faintly his loving charms
Fading memory ebbing ... aching
Each day strongly the memory rebuilding
Waiting… so helplessly, she’s waiting…
Longing… so deeply she’s longing
Praying that he will return to her bastion of love
Fervently pouring out her soul to God above…

"God, protect him… God, save him…
Do not lay him ‘neath foreign ground.
God, bring him back to me safe and sound.
God, bring him back, regardless of grievous wound.
Oh, just bring him back. Just bring him back!"
She fretted with him … fought beside him.
Her sweet love to upon his beleaguered soul pour
His torn and ragged heart cure
His damning memories obscure.
Knowing her love will all hurt heal
If I can just get him once again to feel
Together, we will never forget…
Remembering lost childhood, lost brothers,
Sunrise to sunset
But changed forever ... can we ever pay their debt?
Can we ever live without regret?

Anne Margaret Lane Thigpen, so loved her man
Thig, so far, far away, in jungled Vietnam
With passion gone to do his All-American duty
Fighting for brave justice in liberty
With the support of his young wife-next-door
Dreamed dreams of the war eagle, this boy-next-door
Just doing his patriotic chore…
She bravely smiled, dreaming of how she would miss
Her man’s soft gentle kiss
The embodiment of heart and love
The blessed miracle of soul-caring given from above
Best friends, married at eighteen
Thig and his beloved queen
With eternal love never changing
Slings and arrows of life and war never altering.

"Talmage, you just come home to me and your son
Stay safe in Vietnam’s land of the gun"
She entreated with burning passion in her eyes
Warming Thig’s heart beyond what he could realize
For somehow she knew … she knew
He did not know what he was getting into
Not understanding consequences of the devil’s brew
But she knew … yet let him go too
Because it was something he had to do
For a man stands when called
To relieve suffering of a people by tyranny galled.
She put on a brave front in silence she suffered
Her supporting determination by love’s tears buffered
A good woman, my wife
She is my very heart … my life.

Memory of her voice like a bird so sweet
Memory of a wife so lovely and petite
He kept locked in fevered mind discreet
She buoyed him up to fight the Vietcong
To sing the somebody done freedom wrong song
She made this soldier’s lonely heart sing
She was indeed the wind beneath his wing
Lifting him proudly higher than a king.
Anne Margaret prayed, like an angel prayed,
"Lord, I need Thee every hour, but he needs You more,
God protect my man Thig. Oh save him You died for.”
She changed the oil, did the plumbing, mowed the yard
Her loving support from home Thig’s lifeguard
Showing her man naught but good cheer
Hiding grievous pain that her poor heart did sear
Making music to drown hard silence known for a year.

Anne Margaret dispensed down-to-earth wisdom
To her man far away in Vietnam
She gave strength to make it through.
She gave courage when Thig was blue
Though sorely she missed his hugs, kisses too
Especially during long nights alone in their bed
Caressing the pillow where her man lay his head
Spilling tears softly on her gold wedding band
Remembering her loved one fighting in a foreign land.
So Thig made it back on a wing and a prayer
To his love, Anne Margaret, waiting sweetly there.
Thig so proud of his wife, honest always to a fault
You better not ask her what she thought…
Because she’d tell you! like as not
Laying it on the line what you’d wrought.

She sang at American Legion halls and veteran places
Bringing angelically loving smiles to lonely faces
Warbling like an angel on the wing
On the Grand Old Oprey stage she did her thing.
“Are there any veterans out there?
When performing, she always asked everywhere,
For I am married to a Vietnam veteran!
Stand up Veterans of any war, in any land of the gun
Stand up so we can say, 'Welcome Home'
'Welcome Home' from lands bleak and darksome
'Welcome Home' from lands of shock and awesome
To sons of war feeling abandoned and alone
Bearing Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome.”
Thig told her this made him cry,
Remembering a place where part of him did die
So asked her not to…
But she said "Talmage, I do this because I love you."

"I love you too, Anne Margaret!
That I did not tell you more often my only regret.
My beloved, now it’s you gone so far away
To a far land where I hope to join you someday
Now it’s you leaving me behind to pray…
To an angel gone before to prepare the holy way
My angel flown to heaven's royal courtyards above
Now sitting on the right hand of God’s infinite love
Gone but not forgotten, the music you used to play
It’s hard to bear empty silence since you’ve gone away.
But now you sing with choirs of angels in joyful array
A right heavenly gig
Just remember always thine Thig…
Trying so hard to hold wisdom’s courage you gave me
Hiding the pain of parting till we fulfill our destiny
I’ll find strength you taught me, somehow
Wiping away tears from my fevered brow
I miss you. I need you. I love you!"

************

 You've asked for a book of my poems ... well, here it is ... entitled "My Thousand Yard Stare, Poetry from the Heart of a Soldier."  There are 270 pages with over two hundred full color pictures and graphics in this book of my most popular poetry. Buy my book instantly at, http://namtour.com/marketplace.html with the security and ease of PayPal or your choice of credit cards.

If you wish it signed by the author, send a check to:

Gary Jacobson

6325 south Old Hwy 191

Malad, Idaho 83252

I appreciate your votes for "Vietnam Picture Tour!" as a "Top Military Site," at "Veterans Topsites." Just Click this link to vote:
http://www.worldwidetopsites.com/php/in.php?id=knights
Vietnam Picture Tour is presently in 2nd place on "Military Topsites," 

Thanks to your generous support...so whether you vote once, every day, or now and then...I sincerely Thank You!   

Please share this with veterans and friends...

Gary
Gary Jacobson

"Vietnam Picture Tour," http://namtour.com/namtour.html A walk in "the park" grunts called Vietnam, with the 1st Air Cavalry on comba t patrol. Experience chilling reality to leave the sweet and sour taste of "the Nam" pungent on your tongue, the smell of "the Nam" acrid in your nostrils, and textures of "the Nam" imbedded in you as though you were walking beside me in combat.

My poignant poems directory, pictures and artwork to show the essence and feeling of war on young "boys next door," http://namtour.com/nampoemsNpix.html

"Realm Of Poetry," Poems of love and romance, spirituality and meditation, Golden Oldies, comedy, Quests of the regal knight Richard Lionheart to the crusades and seeking the Holy Grail, dueling dragons, frolicking fairies, and comedy ... and also links to my site of riding that bestial ogre called war ... http://namtour.com/P/RealmOfPoetry.html

~**~**~

For this grand and beautiful Memorial Day ...

by Gary Jacobson © Monday

Blessed be my gallant brothers of the sword

Who fought in valiant courage with one accord

Displaying utmost honorable bravery

Sowing seeds to peoples of the earth of democracy

Reap now from our hearts your harvest of richest reward

On this Memorial Day receive your nation's grateful award.

O, brave soldier, who fought for me

Who kept me royally free ...

America still crowned with diadems of liberty

With honored glory still commendatory because of thee...

What has been your destiny?

What has been made of your gallant history?

What kind of future has your glorious action brought

What have you of life wrought?

What has been your life's story?

For your service, be ye ever proud of the memory!

Receive now our heartfelt thanks benedictory.

Here now is your grand and noble legacy?

A Soldier's LEGACY

by Gary Jacobson © 1999

http://namtour.com/warrior.html

Life’s experience is a soldier's legacy

But not of lands or gold consistency.

In my time I have seen both birth and death,

Poverty and wealth,

Honesty and dishonesty,

Good and bad philosophy,

The pure heart of charity,

The face of greed,

And the divine seed.

I’ve heard blatant blasphemy,

Avowed spirituality.

I’ve been lost,

Forsaken

Alone.

I’ve needed saving grace to atone.

I’ve seen evil selfishness,

Blatant pettiness,

Purest love.

I’ve felt great joy from above,

Unexcelled happiness,

Deep despair and sadness

I have looked into the face of the grim reaper,

Borne witness to the circle of life keeper.

Like our forefathers, may our children learn,

To walk softly, but carry a big stick.

I offer the wisdom this lesson will return

To know when to walk with softness,

Or the big stick to pick...

To give to despots a swift kick.

For all things there is a time and season.

Living and loving in peaceful harmony with reason

For I have flown with the hawk,

Considered with the dove,

Pondered at length the Master’s love.

I've pondered that Divine legacy

Of great moral integrity,

Bequeathing a fundamental honesty,

Handing down fulfilling spirituality,

Simple bravery.

This soldier's legacy is always to yourself be true.

For valued dependability must life imbue,

Instilling grand courage,

That of the world's wrong's take umbrage,

Showing patient, loving kindness,

Shored with timbers of complete trustworthiness.

I want my children in this life to be,

Fitting reflections Dear God of thee,

Goodly lives honoring,

In harmony living with loving,

Knowing right from wrong,

With joy singing,

A heavenly

Song...

In all you do exude love,

For family, friends, neighbors,

God!

Yourself...

Adhere to that Iron rod,

With love greater than wealth.

For a person can’t fully others love,

Until Themselves...

They first truly learn to love.

There will come a time

In this world’s rotating rhyme,

When valiant peace cannot intercede,

Cannot undo Great greed's unholy need,

The blooming Armageddon seed

Planted by wicked winds of war indeed.

The past cannot so soon be undone,

For a plethora of heritage’s exist under the sun.

Brave men and true must take a stand,

Draw a finite line in the sand,

Justice for all to demand.

Over that line the oppressing foe

Must never ever go...

For those leading humanity down an ignoble path

Must suffer a good right hand's righteous wrath,

A cursory epitaph of blackened death.

Then, and only then,

Is it time to pick the warrior’s stick!

There will always be madmen in this world,

Malefactors with hating around them unfurled.

My child, the light of innocence around you pearled,

Brave men must rise these evils to stop.

Honorable men must freedom's gauntlet drop,

Perverted ambitions to disrupt,

Immoral machinations to corrupt.

Some men bent on violent destruction

Will not hear your peaceful solution.

These prevaricators hold the truth not in them

For they would spread an ignominious seed,

Of unholy greed that makes good men bleed.

Ominous beasts would the world enchain,

Receive convoluted joy in others pain,

Saddle just with malcontent,

Trample truths held self evident,

Oppress nations without due consent.

Sprouting mutiny’s around the world will always blossom

Kidnaping the light of life to ransom,

Bolting into full scale revolt

That can be quelled only with a mighty thunderbolt.

Honor cannot suffer tyranny

So good men must strike while the iron is hot,

Or lose all good peace has wrought

By blood of patriots on battlefields bought.

With all your might

Stand always ready to fight the good fight.

Stand up for the right.

Answer the call

Patriotism to defend the right install

On which depend societies all.

Sacred freedoms with your life defend

To that life’s very end.

My child, there will always be pathways to choose,

And for every choice there are dues

You must pay.

There's the easy way,

The hard way,

The fun way,

The right way,

the wrong way,

Your way,

your friend’s way,

The ever popular low way,

My way or the highway.

Sometimes mid life's mortality

It takes the greatest bravery

To turn the other cheek,

To walk in the footsteps of the Master meek,

With forbearing meek and mild

Bearing simple innocence of a child.

Good men must peaceful seeds sow,

Winnowed in winds that fiercely blow,

To with pure hearts quell the greater foe,

Replacing angered hearts...so peace can grow.

Storytime Tapestry Angels

Angels on earth, they exist they are out there.  Angels come in all ages, shapes and sizes, civil status, and religion.  Their nature is love and their purpose is giving to the less fortunate of this world.  Storytime Tapestry angels are no exception.  These angels are loyal members who have contributed to the upkeep of Storytime Tapestry newsletter so that Storytime Tapestry can continue come to your email box 350 days of the year.

Here is our Storytime Tapestry Angels: Also, I would like to thank those of you who chose to be a silent angel and gave an anonymous donation to keep Storytime Tapestry up and running.

Clara Westerfer, Mark Crider, Rosanne Catalano, Paula Booher, Kay Seefeldt, Mariane Holbrook, Mary Ellen Grisham, Louise Nomani, Sharon Bryant, Angela Walker, Hart and Helen Dowd, Keith Ready, Ginger Morgenstern, Ellie Braun-Haley, Surinder Jandu, Bob Shaw, Carol Meeks