Sheila's Dribs 'n Drabs

In flowerbeds the flags wave bright red blue and white, while orange flies to label cables, lines and wires amid the arid gray of scorching clay and all around the grass is turning brown. Will you still celebrate tonight or wonder why our freedoms take such fright?

I depend on my spouse for my home; He depends on me to keep the hearth aglow. I depend on my kids for youth; they on me for growth. I depend on my government to keep it all afloat and more and most I depend on God. Maybe independence is the freedom to know True dependence is rights and responsibilities both. Find another Five-Minute Bible Story spotlighted at the Virtual EBook Fair again this weekend http://sheiladeethstudies.blogspot.com/2013/07/sampling-story-of-freedom-from-five.html https://www.facebook.com/events/211998585618730/  

The rocket’s red glare was hard-bought and hard fought for And soldiers returned. Hear the glory they earned In the call of the rocket’s tonight.

When taxes stained the heart and teas the water Came the slaughter till New taxes strained the heart and tears of sorrow Filled the bay.

To those who came to claim What others said was everybody’s right To liberty, remember they Meant only those who already belonged Among their number.

We hold these truths self-evident That accidents of birth decree By line of common cause the right To life, pursuit of happiness And bounded liberty.

Our nation’s pride remembered With flashing fire and flaming blast With music calling first to last Remember. Our nation’s pride remembered When they closed the door And threw away the key. Our nation’s pride remembered those Who bled and nearly died for thee; Came home; Remember them Our nation’s pride.

We burn our English fireworks in November; remember the guy who failed to blow up the guys who ruled over us; cold taste of ashes on bonfire night. We burn American fireworks in July, while summer skies pour down their stars and stripes. But who remembers defeat and freedom’s price?

Red was the birth of their crying White was the wonder we felt at the sight Blue-threaded veins mirrored midnight in baby-sweet eyes. Red is the blood of their dying White is the blanket that hides them from sight Blue is the pain of mothers whose sons pay our price.

And is the flag still flying there that fluttered high that night? And do the ghosts still gaze with pride from heaven? And are we worth the price they paid who claimed this land, this right When we deny their neighbors’ plight Born of rebellion, claim law’s on our side?

There are stars tonight, like flowers in the clouds. Bright reds and whites and blues, fire-spangled hues. They drip designs like rain. Loud crashing thunder; hear the cannons roar. Fast-spraying rifle-shot at soldier’s hand. Come to the fore. And here’s a man sets flame to firework’s train. Let freedom reign.

Mother tells him put it down. “Can do it self,” says child. Father shouts, but “I’m okay.” Child smiles. Big brother says drop it, but “I’m just as clever as you.” Big sister… “You can’t tell me what to do.” Little boy runs with firework in hand. At least it isn’t lit, and he can’t light it. Mother says, “Come back right now.” And pride comes before a fall. At least the fall’s a few safe inches from the fire. Then rocket flies from little boy’s hand and explosions reach for the sky. At least he’s alive, and he’s okay.

“He’s bugging me Mom.” “Tell him to go away.” “But he won’t.” “Tell him I said so.” “He’s not listening Mom.” Children bug each other and mutter complaints. And bugs buzz round the food and flame, while Mom cooks Independence dinner treats. Eating outside can be such a pain. She wonders why she bothers. “She’s bugging me Mom.” “Tell her to go away.” “But she won’t.” “Then tell her I said so.” Still, food smells good, then they gather and sit and eat with vivid smiles. That’s why she bothers. Sometimes independence is choosing to hang around without going away.