The Flag
by Helen George

The sun is shining, a soft breeze blows,
I wave serene 'ore the rooftops below
As I'm hoisted aloft, proud and tall,
Endearingly loved and treasured by all.

Sometimes I am honored to serve as a shroud,
Covering the casket of one who died proud,
First respectfully folded and gently, then,
I'm passed to the grieving widow, his kin.

Today, I am part of a glorious parade,
Held aloft by a veteran, grandly displayed,
I'm as proud to be held by one who fought for this land
As I am to be waved from that little boy's hand.

I'm representative of a great country's dream,
Held in the highest degree of esteem,
Whether in sadness or joy I abide,
It's always with dignity, always with pride.