The Flag
By T.M.Connolly2001©
The stars shone dimly through the misty sky
While men's voices raised in triumphs cry
The War, the bloody War was at an end,
Each American now could call their neighbor friend.
The leader of the victorious nation
may at last with concience calm,
leave his post and station.
Did with wife on arm,and friends by side,
escort them hither to Fords Theatre.
For a night of laughter's healing balm.
Many a man he asked for love, to keep him near,
two only could he find to share the jolly cheer
His greatest generals, statesmen. lowest aide,
their Chiefs final request they did not heed
instead many an excuse was made.
Four only with gentle innocence,
approached the hellsmouth door
No, not four, there was one more.
One uninvited guest, unnoticed by all,
faithfully walked abreast with Honest Abe
The audience did cheer Huzzah! Huzzah! Lincolns here
With grace and modest salute he bowed his weary head
Unashamedly tears moisturized the careworn, rivuletted face.
He blessed each man and woman who hailed his name
Yet gently in shyness and humility, denied the offered fame
The play was light. His wife amused.
Many a joyful guffaw
did strike his war wearied ears.
His guard by demon rum seduced.
by liquor made betrayer
Was it only the damp April mist
which caused old Abe
to pull the shawl closer to
his gaunt and beleaguered frame.
Or was he by premonition's chill gently kissed,
giving caveat that soon, he would meet his slayer.
The actor projected the chosen phrase,
long awaited,by the figure silently concealed,
His graceful hand the weakened door threw he wide
with eagerness and accuracy born of belief and skill.
Aye even in the midst of laughter's, riotous uproar
John Wilkes , let free the little pistols awesome power,
Mercifully Lincoln did he kill.
Booth welded his knife, Major Rathbone he dismissed,
On to the handrail he leapt with alacrity.
All eyes upon him turned.
For one last moment triumphant,
he was the shining star.
He jumped into the abyss,
as many times had done before.
Yet fate plays games with men's desires.
His spur, the Loyal flag did snag, and down he fell.
The beautiful toy The South's favored boy
broken never more to be mended,
Yet with braveness and ferocity one last speech
John Wilkes expounded,
Sic Semper Tyrannis.
The South has been revenged,
the tyranny is ended.
The play was over but Lincoln did not applaud.
The orator was silenced.
His mouth as once with great words, now blood did fill.
Many who once loved dear John, wild with fury shouted.
T'was Booth, T'was Booth
Hie him to the gallows, he must not live.
To his miserable life we will make an end
Oh fickle hosts how soon they bend,
The drama played out, but twelve days more.
The role he had sought and won,
with him died devoid of curtain call.
His final bow, in Garrett's humble barn.
John Wilkes Booth, brought down by the flag
Father Abraham so dearly loved.
The great tragedian it laid low
T'was the truest patriot of them all,
staunch and faithful.
Aye even unto the buglers evening call.
The Exit by T.M.Connolly.
To be published in the new Anthology.
Under the quicksilver moon 2001
~The Exit~
I am a man with singular distinction.
To have been made aware of mine own
impending demise.
Today, within the hour,
my eminent fate, to die, to live no more.
Yet tis without my particular inclination.
Deep within my mind I hear the utterance of my woeful sighs.
So angry, I could pull the handle, perform their duty.
Whilst Coward, woulds't plead the hemp to break.
T'were angels to trumpet this sentence recanted.
I would not hear above the screech of mine own emasculated bawls.
All silent sound, the banshees wailing calls.
To you who wait in ignorance of your flights departure.
Think on this, I can with peace, in freedom walk.
Knowing the second of my spirits time and call.
I pray you will no one for pitys sake!
Stop the clock, and leave it, once more to fogged fate.
