Operation Just Cause... ...for as long as it takes
Eagle graphic by Peggy © 1999
"The Eagle ,The Rebirth" The eagle circled upward into the blue, above the mountain tops, upward into the purple mist, higher than he had ever flown before. It was an ardent effort even for an eagle with wings wide and bright of copper felt but a lofty purpose arose within him as he climbed above a shrinking world. He looked down beneath the drifting white clouds and there, within their breath, was the brilliant spectral glow of a rainbow, blooming, like a garden after the rain. The eagle’s eyes peered deep into the glimmering streams of sparkling color. Unfolding his mighty talons, he screeched, and descended with blinding speed and righteous purpose into the untouched depths of nature’s laugh. The eagle glided with consummate grace just above the trees, his powerful claws clinched around the heart of the rainbow. His eyes, once deadly brown, where alive with the hues of autumn leaves and the world looked large and wonderful. The eagle saw a white dove carrying a branch of peace, ascending from the forest below. The dove, once frightened by the eagle, whispered, “ I see sweet peace within your grip; shining from your eyes, and I will help you nurture it, so that it may grow, and descend upon the world from the lofty perch of heaven.” The eagle and the dove danced the dance of joy until the sun beckoned the eagle to the horizon of tomorrow. The dove watched the eagle fade into the distant dreams of a sleeping sun where he became the night’s first bright star. She winged toward the forest, filled with the happiness of understanding, unafraid of the eagle anymore and aware of his mighty quest; to shine above all God’s mountains in every land on earth, to share peace from the rainbow’s heart born in each man’s rebirth. By Tony Spivey {Scarlet Hawk} and By Peggy Meeks-King
Of Black and Of White
by Peggy Meeks-KingYou can not see it, you can not touch it-
but much like love you know its there-freedom
fills the lofty air all around us everywhere!
I close my eyes and I go back to another place
and of another time.
When they could no longer hear the sweet bells
of Liberty chime.
Of black and of white is their tale-
a sad story that is told-
of eyes that fill with tears when the POW flag is flown!
They were the ones to have their freedom taken
away-it was a time of another day
far- far away.
Taken captive in that land all the freedom cast
aside-cast away.
Put in cells of the darkest gray-
the floor was wet with dirt and bugs.
They had no dreams, they had no wishes
only fear lingered there in that room of untold gloom!
Sometimes they would fall fast asleep, a dream
that their heart would create and dream
that they were once again free and could walk
down a road and even to walk home to see
the face of mom and of dad.
Then they would wake from their sweet false slumber
and know it was only a dream and in fact
the gray walls around them were real and
deaths counterfeit had been a fake hope!
They had very little food to speak of there
and hunger can be a humans worst enemy.
Sometimes fear and hunger go hand in hand
with a game of who will win.
A prayer on each and every lip
please my god set me free!
This became an illusive dream there
The symbols they grew up with were no longer
to be found in that place.
The stars and the stripes of the red, white and blue
that rainbow that appeared after a summer's storm
were all gone in that bitter space.
They were Americans freedom was all they had ever
known, it even dwelt deep within their souls.
The thought in the back of their minds that they may
never be free again was almost to much for their hearts to bare.
Some would even lay on the damp cold
gray floor and wait for the next dream
to come their way and it would carry
them away to another time and to another day!
A dream is a wish your heart makes when your
fast asleep a sweet song some would hear in
their ears at great times of pain
and sometimes being homesick was all they could know.
And some would never talk of the days of black
and of white of the POWs fight.
But we knew they had been there in that place
it was a bittersweet light from their eyes
a gray light that ask was we almost forgotten;
in that space our freedom taken away from us
to keep America the land of the free?
A great land for you and me..a poem to all POWs
(one line was taken from a Disney song) "A dream is a wish your heart makes when you are fast asleep...in dreams you lose your heart ache"...with help from Whitney Meeks my niece age 13To all POWs thank you and to my uncle Chuck Nichols who was a POW for 2 years
"White Dove Of Peace" by Peggy Meeks-King Please white dove come to my window this day, to my garden on your way. To bring your pure sweet love from the clouds above. Bring peace my way, bring love to the world as you make your stay. I see you there among my red roses, I see you there among the purple sweet pea. You my white dove of peace are more dear than the air I breathe. Spread your beautiful wings and fly away to distant troubled lands fill their valleys with love, freedom and peace. So no more war is ever spoken there! Spread your lovely wings white dove as you reach into the tip of the universe far into the Milky Way! And then you take hold of the rainbow bright within your beak and bring the world the peace its heart seeks. And the shadows of the first blue evening stars falls upon your eyes tonight. I beg of thee someday find your way back to me so I too can see the peace you bring. And in my flower garden I will find you in the cool of the evening and once again I will hear the sweet sounds you sing, a lullaby for the whole world to joy for you sing only of peace and of everlasting joy. I hear you there and you sing so sweetly, NO MORE WAR! NO MORE WAR! By PEGGY MEEKS-KING
S Star... by Peggy Meeks-King 1918 of july fire everywhere in the sky color of red next to his head battlefield injury, hero of true blue, a silver medal on his uniform, which later would become a Nobel Prize of gold first love dressed in pale white, filled this young soldier's eyes with delight she saved him in many ways nursed him back to health along with the romance masterpiece tale and lost herself with him on that long path that was told with each word a desperate love with a taste of imminent danger an epic story blossomed two lives would be changed forever beautiful heroic man of blue stars and true lines holding fate within his hands WOULD in days to come inspire his kiss of words A FARWELL TO ARMS falling in love at the crimson crossfire of a world at war love the last thing to find love did find them in love and in war in another time in another day and in another place miles from home Hemingway let her lovely dark hair down in words sweeping hearts still today in each other they found love in war they found each other and danced the dance of desire the dance of Hemingway, still the writer of today! 1998 Peggy Meeks-King (All rights reserved) a poem about Hemingway
Angel of Peace by Peggy Meeks-King Angel of peace From blue Heaven on silver wings of pure clouds you come my way, Angel of peace. The white dove, you hold with in your hand, you want the world to understand that peace is your only true desire, and you pray for it day and night! A blessing from paradise, peace abides in the heart of the believer, who wants it more then life. Angel of peace, I give to you my prayer for peace and hope you will take it back on your silver wings back to heaven from where you came. Pray for Peace each day!
"An Interlude Of Life"
An essay about life – by Peggy J. Meeks-King – ISUAs I walked down the streets of life I've met many people and seen many sights. The place I call my home is the Earth with its Moon, Sun and Stars to wonder at, with eclipses that can make a noon's day sky seem like dusk. Many phenomenons happen on this Earth that many of us for the most part are unaware of. Black butterflies, under a white cloud, beneath a blue sky. Many things we are aware of and wish would disappear: war, hate, hunger, fear, broken hearts and death. But with life's joys also comes it pains, an interlude of sorts; life is a stage and we are all players in the play of life.
What I remember the most as a child was the stories of death. My Grandmother told me the stories of her life. These tales I never forgot because they were carved on my heart like stone. When my Grandmother was a child, they said she would never live to be a young woman. As a child she was weak and sick most of the time. But like a small tree that is weak in the storm endures, my Grandmother also endured the storms of life. Many tears, tears of joy, sadness, disappointment, pain and loneliness.
My Grandmother's second child, Ruth, died at the age of three from diphtheria. Her beloved husband, David, died of a hole in the heart caused by rheumatic fever, leaving her with five small children. In my Grandmother's yard there was only one kind of flower, it was Lily of the Valley, a low plant with a spike of flowers. As a small child, I can remember looking out the windows at lightning when it was storming; my Grandmother would say, "Don't do that," and I would wonder why because I liked to watch it storm. In my Grandmother's closet were many pictures; among them were funeral pictures. I remember seeing the pictures at a young age and thinking, "what is death?" then I would get a very sad feeling and cry.
My Grandmother told me tales of war; in W.W. II she had three stars in her window, not heavenly stars, but these were earthly stars caused by war. One son was in Egypt, one son was in the Army, and one son was on a ship on the ocean where he saw the rainbow's edge. Three stars in her window to stand for each son in the war. When the war was over only two sons returned; one was a POW. My Grandmother told me that she thought she would never see that son again. After two years she saw him again. But like time, all things pass, even war.
My Grandmother also told me tales of the old country, of the Iron Curtain and of the holocaust when people were burned in ovens. She told me about angels and that the most powerful thing upon this earth was the written word because it can change many things: injustice, ignorance and even war.
Also, the most unbreakable thing we possess is our human spirit. I learned from my Grandmother that life is not fair and that life is always uncertain. I thought of my Grandmother, Delphi Nichols, when the Iron Curtain came falling down twenty years after her death. For all of life's dark sides, in the spring a flower will bloom and all is almost forgotten.
Click on the POW/MIA Graphic to return to the Creativity Corner 
Thanks to Karl of Karl's Korner for the POW circle graphic.