It’s time to go to bed little man
Cover up your head little man
I’ll see you when the sun breaks in the morn
Say your prayers and close your eyes
I’ve locked the monsters all outside
She’d sang those words to him since he was born
He grew to be a brave young lad
And followed after his ole dad
Beneath a flag of pride his oath was sworn
They brought him home in silk lined wood
And all around him soldiers stood
While Butterfield’s Lullaby played on the horn
It’s time to go ahead little man
I know that you weren’t scared little man
My heart breaks I can’t see you and I mourn
I’ve said my prayers for your closed eyes
I’ve tucked my feelings deep inside
She sang into a folded flag of thorns
From Janna Hill’s “Interior Verse”
The Real Janna Hill 
We should assure that their leaders are worthy of their service. To do otherwise is a travesty.
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Likened to boiling a young calf in the mothers milk.
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Oh my. *chills*
A poem I get, and then – don’t get. 😦
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What part is the don’t get? Was it the folded flag of thorns?
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No. The fact that it has to be at all. 😦
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I hear you!
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Great poem, excellent imagery…and the photo says it all
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Thank you Sue.I thought the photo conveyed the message well – just wish I had taken it.
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🙂
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Very poignant poem, Janna. I hope to God it isn’t autobiographical.
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Thanks McFinn. Not autobiographical [Thank GOD] though [sadly] true for a few folks I know.
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