The poetry of Beto Ochoa, Prose from a spiritual warrior


The Poetry Of Beto Ochoa~ Prose from a spiritual warrior

Monday, May 28, 2007

The Sunken Road III. Antietum Creek

I was just a baritone choirboy
Followin' orders and friends
In such pursuit, I learned how to shoot
And how to take means to their ends

Then one night the Captain he stopped me
And asked me if I had the stuff
To lead a brave comp'ny of men up the hill
Did I think I was up to snuff?

The words I spoke to the Captain
Haunt me now many years past
"I'll lead where you say and we'll carry the day."
My chance for glory at last

So I called the men 'round in the wee hours
And boasted of my new command
They looked at me stark out there in the dark
Now I held their lives in my hands

We all went back to our billets
And gathered our meager effects
Then penned letters home to those we had known
And wills of our final directs

The dawn broke cold and remorseless
Our breakfast was bacon and tack
Then I led with a hymn of bein' home again
And our spirits were better on track

We mustered in front of the others
And formed in orderly lines
Then bravely struck out with a soldierly shout
As the sun rose over the pines

Halfway up the hill no resistance
So we all broke into a run
Our colors were stiff in a crisp morning wind
You’d almost have thought it was fun

Then the first volley busted our rapture
And brought us all back to our roots
But we dared not relent and redoubled our bent
As if we had wings on our boots

The front rank was startin’ to stumble
And some were cryin’ and prayin’
As lead and sorrow fell on our troop
Like water falls from rain

We'd all been pressing hard forward
When the bugle blew recall
So we parried our tack and all doubled back
Yet we still continued to fall

I picked up the colors a lyin'
Where the troop who was sportin' them fell
I raised them again for the faith of my friends
And we all let out a loud yell

It seemed like an eternal journey
To make it back down to our kin
I fell to my knees and begged the Lord please
don't send us back up there again

I turned to rally my comp'ny
And found my self standin' alone
They were still in the field that would not yield
I was all that was left of my own

Then the captain called me a hero
That honor was mine that day
But I wasn't much proud and I wept out loud
'Cause my troops were the ones who had paid

The battle was done in a few days
And a truce was called for a while
To gather the dead all shot up with lead
And bury them soldierly style

Pinned in the backs of their jackets
Nestled there in the fair ferns
Were the letters and wills, hair locks and bills
Stamped for their own self return

Now that the fightin's all over
I went back home to my call
I remember my men when fall comes again
And the others who served with us all

So don't take for granted your freedom
Remember that some here were pressed
And how brave comp'nies of men fight for you
And charge you not for their deaths

I was just a baritone choirboy
Followin' orders and friends

Memorial Day

I called to them but they were gone
Yet still I hear their crys
Of Rebel yells and cannon shells
Then silent bye and bye

So it is that we are born
Of Patriot Rebel kin
For us the shackles torn away
Moved forward from our sin

From Kings we came, slave and master
Down to brothers in the end
Tightly grip the thread that binds us
Lest we be torn from the limb

We alone of all the nations
Shed our blood for freedoms call
So Gods' blessings do abound us
Save us even when we fall

Ner' forget the ones who've served us
Honor every end of May
Cheer the brave and weary soldier
Here at home and far away

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My families came to Texas when It still belonged to Spain.



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