Have Your Poetry on the Web!
In the course of writing commentary articles, I have received letters from readers who feel the issues facing
our society and culture are of such importance that prose is an inadequate medium for expressing their feelings and beliefs.
As you will see, sometimes the Conservative Cause is most elequently expressed in verse.
If you have any poems, short stories, or political commetary of your own, please send them to me with the link
at the bottom of the page.
Some said let you apologize
But that wouldn't do it in our eyes.
A man astride
of each position
Could we believe your true contrition?
And on deaf ears your words would fall
whose names are on that Wall
The vindication they now accept
In settling up this long-held debt,
for them we gave our best
And denied you, John, your lifelong quest.
We fought for them, fought for our own,
make you reap what you had sown.
Listen carefully John to what we say,
November 2d was their Veterans' Day.
2d Bn, 327th Parachute Infantry Regiment
101st Airborne Division
Berry (Copywrite 2004,2005)
Oh, the anguish,
oh the horror,
oh the brokenness
Oh how sad and
How can a mother
in such pain,
come face to face with death?
What could anyone
in the act that took her breath!
Oh my God, my
God have mercy,
on a mother who has lost
no way to count the cost.
No one can imagine,
the depth of a mother’s love.
None can know
the devastation when that child,
so greatly loved
is taken prematurely
by such a senseless act
can bring her back.
I pray, oh Lord,
for Your compassion,
that Your grace and love abound,
Give this mother
true faith and peace be found.
A Tribute to
By Nell Berry
A lovely bride you were Lacy,
so happy to
be one too.
Always a smile
on your lovely face,
how could this
happen to you?
We love you
so and miss you,
our hearts are
so full of grief.
your laugh your personality,
can bring no relief.
Our hearts are
full of gratitude,
for so brief
a time we had,
to have known you ,
but oh, how
tragic and sad.
Never to see
that smile again,
never to hold
never to hold
our baby grandson,
and dry his
A mother to
be, you beamed with pride,
your face just
glowed with joy,
so radiant and
full of happiness
to be having
a baby boy.
We weep with
grief, we laugh with pride,
will never die.
We never can
our tears will
relatives cherish you,
but life must
Our love for
you will never fade,
you like a song.
And so, we must
say goodbye for now,
to you and baby
Our hearts are
we’ll always love you,
your story we
The Old Sycamore Tree
by N. Berry (Copywrite
There's a tree standing mute, in the field out back,
no telling how long it's stood. I look at it in wonder and amazement,
for the damage it's endured.
It's suffered many lightening strikes, with limbs
broken and falling down;
the blows from Nature, merciless, yet it seems eternally
It's a sycamore tree, like Zacheus climbed, the
day when Jesus he found.
As he struggled to see Jesus, he knew, his life
needed turning around.
This tree, the old sycamore, has seen many a violent
it's trunk, decayed and splintered, limbs broken
Across the landscape, it's sprawled, undaunted by
violence and strife.
From the elements, it's been mauled, and still,
it clings to life.
Every year, it sprouts new growth, and bursts into
in a never ending cycle, it defies death and pain,
it's leaves finally opening, so beautiful and green,
Zacheus, after receiving Jesus, it comes to new life each spring.
Kind of like our Christian walk, through struggles
and often shame,
we are battered and broken and have to start over again.
Though we face adversity, we stand tall, like the
sycamore tree we endure, for our strength is in the Lord.
No matter how many times we fall, or suffer through
storms and strife,
we can always count on Him, Who gives us eternal
For Jesus is our High Tower, our Deliverer, our
He gives us strength to carry on, when we're at
the end of our rope.
We keep plodding under a heavy load and He is always
We keep trodding down that long dusty road with
no one to care.
When we see nothing but despair and can't see the
forest for the trees,
When we aren't even aware, Jesus gives us the victory.
Old Sycamore Tree II
Nell Berry 1/25/04
standing out in the pasture,
storms and devastation and strife,
old sycamore seems to laugh at adversity
keeps valiantly clinging to life.
grieves me every time I look at it,
heart aches for the trunk so deformed.
I get some satisfaction in knowing,
that tree, we too, can weather the storms.
has been so merciful to me,
storms of life come and go.
each time the storm clouds gather,
says “Peace be still” and they go.
pray for the Day soon coming,
Jesus makes His entrance in the sky.
promises if we are faithful,
will take us to our new home, by and by.
can’t wait to go with Him,
see my dear Mother and Dad,
family will all welcome me,
I reach that great city so glad.
Old Sycamore Tree III
By Nell Berry 5/5/04
old sycamore tree is still standing,
green leaves heralding the spring.
storms and lightening strikes, it’s recovered,
the miracle of re-birth, nature brings.
tree standing out in the pasture,
trunk so twisted and torn,
can barely recognize it when you see it,
the leaves burst forth to meet the dawn.
old sycamore bent from years of struggle,
as life bends us over with pain.
are torn by sorrow and grief
there’s no relief.
our precious Heavenly Father,
us through once again.
old tree remains, still fighting disease and decay
limbs are so twisted,
split several ways.
as the struggles of our lives
to twist and split us apart,
we know we can call on our Savior,
is always there from the start.
will light the way and guide us,
we obey Him, and give Him our heart
by Nell M Berry (Copywrite
In God’s perfect world we could live,
in harmony and peace.
There would never be disruption,
no sickness or disease.
Everywhere would be contentment,
every day, a day of rest,
we would never have dissention,
or strive with good or best.
No disagreements would develop,
love, joy and peace would reign.
In God’s Holy presence, a tranquil nature we’d retain.
Unfortunately that perfect world does not here exist.
Peace and harmony are elusive;
for some just a myth.
In the Garden, Eve and Adam
gave up that perfect place.
For just one bite of that apple,
gave entrance to a whole new race.
A race for time and eternity,
to which we all subscribe,
the struggle between good and evil,
of which we all ascribe.
That place, that perfect place,
mortal humans cannot attain.
Heaven is that perfect place,
where God is forever the same.
Our works, our deeds, no matter how good,
cannot our entrance gain.
Only the blood, the precious blood of Jesus,
the atonement, the sacrifice,
for which the Lamb of God was slain.