WAR BETWEEN THE STATES

Kith against kindred
for cause much thicker than blood,
kith wore Union blue,
kindred Confederate gray.
Consanguinity at arms,

Eighteen sixty-one
into eighteen sixty-five,
no quarter given,
ineluctable carnage,
each side resolving to win.

Fighting for ideals
with stanch determination,
both camps press the fight,
Internecining battles
leaving thousands dying, dead.

Effacing fury,
immitigable horror,
brother's blood effused.
Bound by ineffable grief,
prayers rise through falling tears.

Inexorably,
meeting on Gettysburg's fields,
Union armies move,
pushing on, ever forward,
against Confederate lines

Till Lee gives the word,
furl our beloved banner boys,
they, the battle win.
Hold your head high my brothers;
return to your kith and kin.

Turning south, homeward,
bedraggled and beaten down,
Rebel soldiers hear
"I Wish I Was In Dixie"
played by Union Army band.

Smiles brighten faces
where tears of anguish flow.
Heavy hearts lighten,
shoulders square with pride to show
on hearing those hallowed cords.

Played in true honor
for a brave but vanquished foe,
respect for men shown
who on the field of battle
gave all against kith and kin.

Today this battle
still fought in the hearts of men,
rages minus honor
in those of ignoble tribe
with motives to be decried.

Knowing no honor,
never lived warrior's creed,
they strive not for praise
in humility of deeds,
but simple power and greed.

©Copyright June 18, 2002 by Charles F. "Butch" Lesley