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Memorial Day
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Song with orchestral background. See the lyrics for the poem.
death soldiers flags graves
Artist picture
Contemporary classical, new age, acoustic piano music AND SONGS!
I didnt discover I could write music until I was nearly forty. Those were my road warrior days, and there was a hotel in Atlanta with a piano in the atrium where I used to give impromptu concerts. My musical training was as a classical pianist, and I thought of my music then as being in that genre (although they were very popular. People used to hang off the balconies in the evening listening to me play).. When I retired, I started to write novels. When I published the first one, I mentioned in the biography that I was also a composer. On a whim, I recorded some of my music and sent it to the editor. Shes a big rock fan, but she loved my soothing piano music. So, here are some pieces for you to (hopefully) enjoy. You can find my novels, also, under my pen name (W Richard St. James) at clublighthousepublishing.com . Youll see that the music may be mellow, but the books are very spicy!
Song Info
Genre
Acoustic • Acoustic Folk
Charts
Peak #95
Peak in subgenre #8
Author
W. Richard St. James
Rights
2015
Uploaded
May 19, 2015
Track Files
MP3
MP3 2.5 MB • 128 kbps • 2:41
Story behind the song
Our church used to have services once a year on its original site, now the church cemetery. That was what inspired the first part of the song, about twenty years ago. Unlike some of the others, where I was setting poems I had written much earlier, the words and music came together. But they stopped. Then about five years ago I finished the words. But not the music. Last year our church organist decided to take Memorial Day weekend off and I was doing the music, so I decided I had to finish up the song. Since I was playing and singing at the same time, the setting is very simple, except for the trumpet part which I added for the orchestration.
Lyrics
The children dance among the graves, And see the flowers, And see the little flags that wave, Bravely, Beneath the clear blue sky. Then they run and ask their mothers why God made the fields of grass and stone? Who is lying here, Sleeping in the field? Sleeping, without dreaming Still and so alone. The mothers leave their flowers and tears. Stone will crumble, Grass will have its way. Who will remember in the coming years? Who will remember in another day? What will it matter How these soldiers died, For love, for honor Or for foolish pride? Or quietly as all must yield, To sleep, in silence, In the grassy field.
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