Tempest Rage – A Rondel

A tempest brews its fiery rage,

Raining flame from lair on high,

Innocents run from molten sky,

As players on this devil’s stage.


The evil Lord, his venom thrust,

Hatreds source no one can say,

Legend speaks of broken trust,

Though long ago, lives on this day.


The village prays a hero come

As many a generation before,

All victims to his ancient lore.

While losing hope is the fate of some

The rest await the chosen one.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

We Must Never Forget – A Tanka

Image Credit: theimagearsenal.com

Image Credit: theimagearsenal.com

These flag draped coffins

Returning from distant wars

We must not forget

Whether cause be right or wrong

They’re our brothers and sisters


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

A Hero’s Welcome

Homecoming celebration November 12, 2012 Ft. Carson, Colorado Springs, Colorado

By D. R. DiFrancesco


Welcome home,

To you and the 300 like you.


So long gone,

So many tears and worries it drew.


Now you are back,

Safe and warm in your nations arms.


Tears of joy,

Thankful you are away from terrors harm.


You left a boy,

But came back as a man.


Proud and strong,

A country grateful that you took a stand.


You’ve given freely,

Putting your life in harm’s way.


A willing volunteer,

On guard and ready to save the day.


You are a soldier,

Out of sight, but not out of mind.


We welcome you home,

With open arms, warm and wide and kind.


You are our son,

A mother and father’s pride and joy.


Grown into a hero,

No more a little boy.

In honor of our son’s return from a 9 month deployment in Afghanistan on November 12, 2012.  Welcome home son, we are so proud of you.  

Please remember those brave men and women proudly serving our nation and give thanks that they have volunteered to protect us.


U.S. Army 4th Infantry Afghanistan

Sun blinds me,
Sweat blurs my vision,
Leaving me disadvantaged,
Reliance on the senses,
An inconvenient certainty.

Stride faltering,
Dustdevils swirl behind me,
Exhaustion clouds my mind,
I can’t think straight,
Thoughts congeal in random patterns.

Skin burns,
Ultraviolet rays scar me,
Dirt covered crimson,
Cringe to the touch,
Sundown brings little relief.

Feet blistered,
My boots, my next best friends fail me,
Rest, not an option,
I must keep advancing,
Being left behind, inconceivable.

Backpack strains me,
My worldly possessions contained within,
Life and death kept at bay,
Sustainence, munitions, reminders of home,
All I have to call my own.

Never complaining,
Unspoken duty of every man,
Doing what must be done,
Personal harm not considered,
The oath more hallowed than hallowed ground.

Honor me,
Honor me not for the sacrifice,
Honor me not for the blood I’ve shed,
Honor me not for the widow I left behind,
Instead honor me.

For my love of God and country.

Those Left At Home

By D. DiFrancesco

Are they ok?
Where are they?
Questions asked daily by parents of children
But they aren’t really children any more
Only to us.

A letter home
The occasional telephone call
Pictures and postcards
Somehow it isn’t enough to quell the fears
While serving in a land so far away.

We can’t hold them
We can’t advise them
We can’t comfort them
All we can do is worry about them
So Many more questions than answers.

The military says they will take care of them
They say they will try to bring them home safe
“Try” doesn’t make this any easier
But they can’t make such promises
No one can see into the future.

Parcels are sent regardless of cost
Trying to provide some comfort to them
Little things to remind them of home
A little thing to make us feel useful
Yet it doesn’t change anything.

This is what they chose to do
We swell with pride at the thought
We fly our flags and display our yellow ribbons
Small signs to the rest of the world of the their sacrifice
And our sacrifice.

They are a gift
Given to all of us to cherish
They pay the price for our freedom
They weren’t asked to, they weren’t told to
They give because it is their destiny.

Remember these heros in your prayers
Because you know them or someone like them
And because they deserve it and have earned it
This is the very least we can do
Don’t let their sacrifices be for naught.

The telephone rings
Our hearts skip a beat
Hello, is answered with an endless silence
Angst gives way to elation
Hi…Mom…Dad, its me.