Peace Poem 23

I am fasting a day early, hence, the poem. The originals are on http://peace-weaving.blogspot.com/ ( see link at right). My Southern Rose The willows stand stiff daguerrotypes; Generals of the War between the States; their beards so full and majestic in their stance. They maintain their verdant burden and sweeping low in gallant bow! chorus My rose of Maryland! Bloom forever! The South’s own herbal honey! The Balm of Appalachia; sweet liquor of Antietam! The wild flowers strewn up to the sky, Soldiers of the war; their eyes so young and filled with hope: like idols in their fane. They stand in silent loyal witness, reeds in ponds innumerable. chorus My rose of Maryland! Bloom forever! The South’s own herbal honey! The Balm of Appalachia; sweet liquor of Potomac! We’re coming east from Morgantown, from the Cumberland. We stop to eat at Hancock where you can stand and throw a stone apiece into Pennsylvania’s green fields and into West Virginia’s land. chorus My rose of Maryland! Bloom forever! The South’s own herbal honey! The Balm of Appalachia; sweet liquor of Patapsco!