I remember writing this the night my husband returned home from Iraq, it was his third and last homecoming from that faraway place . . . He’s since retired, the sight of those boots laying there was one of the most beautiful things I can remember seeing.
Dust from another world,
soles worn from wear,
the color of sand,
wrinkled and creased
from the miles
marched in,
fought in,
slept in.
Dappled with the
darkened stains
from fallen sweat
and silent tears.
On the floor
by the bedside
they lay,
weary from war.
Worn with pride
ready again for service,
but now they rest
beside the bed where
the soldier sleeps.
Safe, loved,
home with me.
When tomorrow comes
a little boy
will wear the boots,
clumsily making his
way around the house.
He doesn’t know
where those
boots have been,
he just knows
they are his daddy’s
and he is home
again . . .
Crystal R. Cook
The Qwiet Muse 
Reblogged this on Tales of Love and Light.
LikeLike
Powerful, moving and awesome.
LikeLike
Thank you :o)
LikeLike
no… thank you…
LikeLike
This is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever read.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much, it was a moment in time I will always remember . . .
LikeLike
Those last words have a true kick of reality. Wow.!
LikeLiked by 1 person
For too many . . .
LikeLike
Oh my goodness how powerful,and loving!! This needs to be shared on military support sites and such!! His boots are home!! Blessings to you and your family!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you :o) those boots are in important piece of our past . . . I pray for a day when every soldier gets to leave his boots by his own bed at the end of the day.
LikeLike
Reblogged this on hastywords and commented:
I had to share this beautiful poem. Show the author some love!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you . . . You made my heart smile today :o)
LikeLike