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It was a sweltering August morn,
The view from the Tonnant was deminished,
By the smoke and sea generated fog.

Her decks were laden with cannonballs,
Brought aboard to parley for the good Doctor,
Accused of being cruel to British men.

Allowed to speak on his behalf, with written word,
from a many of those he had aided,
So professionally, without council to his Patriotism.

His release you won, with Honor,
With political dignity which you possessed,
However, you were not freed.

Taken instead to the Surprise, under guard,
For you knew, of the plan to attack,
Baltimore on the morning next.

From her decks, you watched in dismay,
The bombardment, of the Fort upon the hill,
A seemingly endless barrage of death and fire.

By dawn, the day following, you would seek,
The answer to the question, you dare not ask,
Through the fire and smoke the answer came.

A parchment you drew from your coat,
With pen, you wrote immortal words,
For what you saw held such inspiration.

A thirty by forty foot piece of cloth,
The mighty symbol, of undying Patriotism, Remained
Torn and tattered, yet a vision of life.

Your pen moved with grace as you wrote,
Oh, say you did see, by the dawns early light,
The Fort upon the hill, intact, unwaivered, unbeaten.

The smoke has since cleared, the cloth enshrined,
The parchment you wrote that day,
Will forever be etched in our hearts.


                " Oh, Say Does That Star Spangled Banner Yet Wave,
                   O'er The Land of the Free, And the Home of the Brave"
                    - Francis Scott Key-

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