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Pastimes : A Poetry Corner -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: MJ who wrote (1147)	11/17/2004 5:04:40 PM
From: GROUND ZERO™	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 1582

The Sheepdogs Most humans truly are like sheep, Wanting nothing more than peace to keep, To graze, grow fat and raise their young, Sweet taste of clover on the tongue. Their lives serene upon Life’s farm, They sense no threat nor fear no harm. On verdant meadows, they forage free With naught to fear, with naught to flee. They pay their sheepdogs little heed For there is no threat; there is no need. To the flock, sheepdog’s are mysteries, Roaming watchful round the peripheries. These fang-toothed creatures bark, they roar With the fetid reek of the carnivore, Too like the wolf of legends told, To be amongst our docile fold. Who needs sheepdogs? What good are they? They have no use, not in this day. Lock them away, out of our sight We have no need of their fierce might. But sudden in their midst a beast Has come to kill, has come to feast The wolves attack; they give no warning Upon that calm September morning They slash and kill with frenzied glee Their passive helpless enemy Who had no clue the wolves were there Far roaming from their Eastern lair. Then from the carnage, from the rout, Comes the cry, “Turn the sheepdogs out!” Thus is our nature but too our plight To keep our dogs on leashes tight And live a life of illusive bliss Hearing not the beast, his growl, his hiss. Until he has us by the throat, We pay no heed; we take no note. Not until he strikes us at our core Will we unleash the Dogs of War Only having felt the wolf pack’s wrath Do we loose the sheepdogs on its path. And the wolves will learn what we’ve shown before; We love our sheep, we Dogs of War. Russ Vaughn 2d Bn, 327th Parachute Infantry Regiment 101st Airborne Division Vietnam 65-66 GZ

To: MJ who wrote (1147)	11/25/2004 4:10:00 PM
From: Mac Con Ulaidh	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 1582

hi, MJ. I've been doing a search for the song you mention and can't find it. Do you have a clue for me? I'd enjoy reading the lyrics or downloading it. Partly I'd enjoy reading a 4am poem. :) I've always split things up as "after midnight".... 2am/closing time... 3am.... and "the hour before dawn". I guess 4am would fall into 3am territory. To me it's that time between when the world finally goes quiet (after 2am and the bars close) and the darkest hour before dawn, and then dawn. A few months out of high school I took the job that I had the longest... delivering a paper route. I did that for three years at night, with a short stint as an afternoon deliverer (sp??). One of the things I treasure about it is that I went in at 2am and was out until "normies" were starting off to work. You learned a whole feel of the hours of night. 3am, and I reckon 4am, were the hardest times of all, even if they say the darkest hour is just before dawn. The world is so quiet, in some ways the most peaceful, when a mind can finally put things to rest. But you wonder if dawn will ever really come. And that hour before dawn, when false-dawn teases us... I reckon that is maybe the hardest? You can feel it coming... but will it? And you're tired from the night and from holding on and hoping. for the nightbirds who sing :) thank you