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On the battlefield he lay Mortally wounded he began to pray. "Please Lord, I don't want to die." When he heard a voice say, " Nor do I." In pain he turned so he could see The sad eyes of the enemy. The one he'd been sent here to kill Lay by his side on that cold gray hill. He said, " I answered my country's call, Never dreaming I would fall. That on this hill so far from home, I would lay dying all alone." The young lad then began to cry. He said, "I'm not prepared to die. I thought that I would live for years." He sadly laughed, through bitter tears. "Hang on Son, I'll be right there. Together we will say a prayer." "Dear Lord, please give me strength." he prayed And crawled to where the young man laid. After the battle they were found, Blood mixed together on the ground. In his arms cradled lovingly, The soldier held the enemy. [by Verlie Rose] |
At Last [Maynard Dixon, 1875-1946] At last I shall give myself to the desert again, That I, in its golden dust, May be blown from a barren peak, Broadcast over the sun-lands. If you should desire some news of me, Go ask the little horned toad whose home is the dust, Or seek it among the fragrant sage, Or question the mountain juniper, And, by their silence, They will truly inform you. [Maynard Dixon, Painter & Artist] |