Thinking of Robert LeChevalier

Who fights on to the very end
And does not pause, complain or bend,
But all his spirit sings a cheer
That he’s alive and he is here,
Wins every laurel, every prize,
While fated time-of-dying dies.
His quality of life is more
Than onward days that run before;
His high grade gold is his to mold,
And spending all he ne’er grows old.
His youth is his, as is his pride;
Stamped on his tombstone: UNDENIED!

This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s