By all who live within her bounds,
Is being guarded by a sentinel, who stands both day and night
Upon a hill of green.
Little does he heed the units of the mass--as they go to and fro.
For he sees all alike--each busy with the care of day.
Some can't remember why he stands in all his stateliness and signals
cloud by day and fire by night.
They do not hear the tread of feet that marched eleven years ago.
It is the sentinel--on that hill of green,
That creates love for city and for state,
Within the hearts of men both young and old.
Who, served their country when the bugle called--"Fall in!"
It is the memory of the dead that we commemorate.
With monuments of stone,
Our sentinel is placed--
"Lest we forget!"
The names within remind us of a trust,
"To you from falling hands we throw the torch; be yours to hold it high."
NOTE: This poem was about the LIBERTY MEMORIAL which was dedicated to the Veterans of WWI. Below are some early postcards of the "SENTINEL."
(front)
(back)
Delta Literary Society
Gold Medal - Poem
1929 Literary Contest
(at night)