Solitary Rose
The field was strewn with lads clad in Blue and Gray.
Some entwined in death's macabre embrace on that fateful day.
Infantry clashed and cavalry dashed in a struggle to the death.
Boys were heard to gasp, "Mother, I love you!" with their final breath.
The hills echoed with the steady fusillade of the musket's rattle,
As brave men marched forward shoulder to shoulder into battle.
Sun gleamed off polished steel at the front and on the flank;
Yank and Reb in mortal combat, rank assaulting rank!
Cannon belched roaring flame, hurling shot all thro' the lines,
Ravaging men and nature with their destructive mines.
The men in Gray screamed their terrifying "Rebel Yell!"
The men in Blue kept their eyes on "Old Glory" even as they fell!
Barely visible thro' the billowing smoke on that field of little hope,
Grew a solitary rose in a thicket on a nearby grassy slope.
It stood sentry o'er the strife, displaying its brilliant hue,
And seemed to beckon and say, "Peace I offer you!"
A soldier boy broke ranks to fetch the rose in a moment of despair.
He clasped it to his breast and proffered a hurried prayer.
Alas, the gallant lad was soon to meet his fate on that field of gloom.
Buried in a shallow grave, lifeless hands still clutched the bloom.
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