Saturday, August 15, 2015

THE HILLS OF MIGHT'VE BEEN

Via Michael 

 Image result for confederate soldier blood

Ive roamed the hills of might've been
and the swamps of just suppose
Ive read of our southern Confederacy,
its poetry and its prose

i have crossed the deserts of what if,
Through the bleak and burning sand
A thirst with longing still unquenched
and a love for this dear land

how close we came to victory!
how close and yet, so far.
with nothing left but glory's ashes.
And a bitter unhealing scar

Who can tell the moment
When our star crossed cause was lost?
who can tell with certainty what the death of Stuart cost?

Had Bragg stood fast at Munfordville
Buell's way to bar
Had Neer Pickett's men been ordered
to cross that field so far

Had Albert Sidney Johnson's blood
not soaked the ground where he lay
might the Victory grasped in Shiloh's woods
Made complete the second Day?

Had Jackson lived... and westward gone
To command the army of Tennessee
with that wizard of the saddle
Forrest as his chief of cavalry

What of those lost orders
in the grass at Fredrick town
Was this the straw, blown in the wind
That blew our banners down?

Was the fate of our proud nation
There written in the stars....
And did anyone, i wonder
ever smoke those dammed cigars?

Though im looking back in anger
Down the roads of long ago
Tis better than what the future holds
if our heritages laid low

Lift your heads, ye Southerns
and do your fathers proud.
Teach your children of their birthright...
For though yet conquered we're unbowed!

By Sgt Benjamin R Gormley
April 1992

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