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Civil War Soldier

It was not really a picnic. The odor was in the air. Tomorrow the battle. Time for a song and prayer. Standing before his lonely tent. Cleaning his gun and silver bayonet. Powder was counted, making a full load. A letter home, sewing name on his chest. Lest a bullet fell, him, with no place of rest. Silent determination, of a cause far away. Knowing God was working his fate. 2007 from 8Hop.com search: POEWHIT JESUS SAVES

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012




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