The Call
15 November, 2003
Author: Marty Henry
Early Sunday morning the phone rang.
who could that be, are they insane?
No our daughter called from overseas.
They caught Saddam Hussain.
The pictures in the news,
he looked rugged and bruised.
People in Iraq. Jumping for joy.
No not a decoy. He's the real mcCoy.
Of course we called our friends and family.
He didn't look so happy on national TV.
The final chapter of this man.
Can our children come from those unknown sands?
No Mr Ben-Laden, we haven't forgotten.
about our 911 call.
But the smoke is clearing after all.
This call from overseas will be the best
present under our tree.
Just send our children home BACK TO YOU AND ME.
BACK TO THIS LAND, OF THE FREE
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Comments on this poem/writing:
| Rebecca Henry (66.169.157.243) -- Wednesday, January 14 2004, 02:05 am WOW! Oh Marty! What a poem! You should send this into the President! I may even have his PERSONAL FAX NUMBER! Let me check and get back to you on that,ok? BRAVO! BRAVO! BRAVO! |
| marty henry (206.158.10.6) -- Wednesday, January 14 2004, 05:33 pm Thank you for all of your comments they are special to me. You are a very sweet person. always marty |
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