Fourth of July Poem (poetry assignment for the fourth of July)

http://voices.yahoo.com/fourth-july-poem-8702789.html?cat=42


Fourth of July Poem



The stars sparkle and shine.
We walk up the hill just outside of town, your hand holding mine.



Everyone's come from all around.
Anticipation it is so high, the air is charged with energy, no one looks at the ground.



Soon a crowd has gathered and the bands begin their steady rhythmic drum beat.
All day we've celebrated, celebrated our countries independence, we've forgotten steadily the heat.



Watermelon, cantaloupe, tomato sandwiches, pickles, blackberry pie, hand-churned ice cream...
Picnic in the park, swimming in the lake, running through sprinklers, life it is but a distant dream...



As the sunsets, the winds begin to shift; the night air cools the day's high heat.
Steadily we walk, marching to the hilltop just outside of town, across from the bay, soon awaiting a spectacular treat.



Our National Anthem it is soon played loud and clear, our flag held high--
Patriotic voices sing aloud as the bands lead just before we commemorate with rockets souring into the night sky.



Red, white, and blue, shine so bright as the night sky is lit up, over and over again, as we remember...all those who gave their lives, that we might be free...



We celebrate; we picnic, parade, play games, stand along the rise hand in hand and watch as the fires shine so brightly that all might see...



Independence we won, it is true, but how soon it is we have forgotten that it is only by God's grace.
God's grace, that we lived so long, free, independent with liberty, how have we forgotten the path that our forefather's did trace???



Our forefather's searched the world over for freedom, to worship, for freedom to win the lost.
Today, today, we laugh to scorn those who dare to believe, those who believe, how soon we've forgotten the cost.



Does the ground tremble, does the ground quake? Perhaps, it is our forefather's as they tremble and shutter in their long shut casket.
Wondering how their legacy, their children have forgotten the price that was paid, forgotten that distant rumble of a long silent musket...



Turning once again to the skies, we watch in wonder as the colors shine bright through the night.
Fireworks, like a million shooting stars, noise like many thundering hoof beats, entertain us as we can't see our soon coming fright.



Celebrations of a country once so great that God's blessings could be seen from many afar--
Stand silent my friend, look around, America is soon to reap what she's sown as many blessings and much grace she's forgotten ...



Psalms 9:17