In Pickets Charge

In Pickets Charge men made advance

This third day would be their game chance

To the long and distant blue line

Ripe, like summer fruit on the vine

Toward the great long blue expanse


Onward they walked, as in a trance

Not one in deathly happenstance

On both sides, men with cause entwined

Come together in bloody brine

The vanquished granted no suffrance

In Pickets Charge.


The Union men stood in defiant stance

With hot canister, shot and lance

Armistead’s hat marked the South’s sign

In days to come the hogs would dine

And with the rotting corpses dance

In Pickets Charge.


Lost, T’ward Lee men pass with askance

And he mourned their sad circumstance

As dead men lay with straightened spine

The field the dead could not confine

The South shall never refinance

In Pickets Charge.


Copyright © 2017 Grant Fenton – All Rights Reserved

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