They soared on Eagle’s wings
Through the smoke, and the flame, to the fray

They rallied to their brethren
And they soared to carry the day

They stood their final stand
Warriors all to each last man
They faced the volley, in that cruel land

And they made the way

There as brothers one and all
They stood for us, and they stood tall
To save their brethren, they would fall
As one last time they took to wing, and they soared away

And the wicked danced in glee
As the flames devoured the free
And the brave fell to the ground, ‘neath ash and flame

And their brethren screamed their rage upon the plain

Back home the swirling summer sky
Went black for anguished tear filled eyes
As women wept, and warriors bowed their heads to pray

And the battle there raged on
To bring home those noble sons
As their brothers there fired on
Midst the smoke, and the flame

There lay the valiant slain
On blackened fields today

And the Eagles raged
Midst thunder loosed from cage
As one by one
They claimed their dead
From History’s page

As the angels wept
Where the fallen bled
‘Neath flaming wings
The charge was led

And they crushed the foe
As the blood ran red
The mighty raged
For their brothers dead

As the church bells rang
And a nation mourned
The light broke through
Where the night had scorned

Above all, silent brothers raised them high
As weeping widows, clutched wedding rings:

And one last time, they soared home on Eagle’s wings

©2011, Kathleen MacClintock

Dedicated to our Special Forces, members of Seal Team Six and others who were shot down by the Taliban over Afghanistan yesterday after successfully saving their brethren, Army Rangers who called for aid while under fire. At the time of this writing, troops are battling the Taliban to retrieve their remains and bring them home. Thirty one special forces troops died, the majority were Navy Seals. God bless these courageous Americans and their families.

My fathers are ancient
My mothers, queens by right
Luna bathes me in stardust
Shadow gifts me with night

I feast when I hunger
I yield to no man
I am called danger
And I walk this land

My children are succored
By the might of my tribe
My prey is my choosing
And I take no side

I walk where I will
And I suffer no fool
I am always alone
But together we rule

The forest my kingdom
The heavens my vault
The moonlight shines on
To blaze the trail where I walk

The stars dance above
In eternal embrace
Here below sleeps the dove
And the folk of this place

While I range at will
And my heart never rests
Sweet Luna looks on
She blesses my quest

I sing to her beauty
For I am her child
Fair Luna, ablaze
Midst the howl of the wild

©2011 Kathleen MacClintock

Delivered up
Is the mad jackal of the desert
The blood of the innocent’s
Was the sweat of his brow

Noble, the warriors who have slain thee
Righteous, the victory won now

Sorrowed, we remember our fallen
By the thousands, we could not save
‘Ner shall our hearts forsake them
We tend the altar of the brave

How the innocent you have plundered have wailed!
Midst the fear, and the blood, and the flame
In the end, our finest prevailed
Your wicked way, has earned you shame

Forever your name a curse word
Mad Jackal, who hijacked God’s will
Now only the sea shall claim you
And never again shall you kill

The light of a new dawn comes calling
The light of a world free of thee
Your minions are scattered, and fodder
By the hand of the brave, and the free

Our people have wept in anguish
For our warriors, our hero’s, our fallen, our youth
By the torch of sweet freedom, we vanquish
For the hand of the mighty brings justice and truth

Delivered up
Is the mad jackal of the desert
The blood of the innocent’s
Was the sweat of his brow

Noble, the warriors who have slain thee
Righteous, the victory won now

Sorrowed, we remember our fallen
By the thousands, we could not save
‘Ner shall our hearts forsake them
We tend the altar of the brave

©2011 Kathleen MacClintock

Written upon the death of Osama bin Laden, this poem is dedicated to our troops, our people, and our nation.

The silent quill
A joy to tyrants
A dirge unto the wise

Write, dear poet, write
That all the world may triumph midst your sighs

Let not ashen winter stay your hand
Nor grief, nor wrongs, go unproclaimed

And speak to us of joy
The wonders of God
The hope of spring born rains

Yes, tell of it
Tell of it all
Tell of the despot
Send forth the call

Speak of his wrongs
Midst fierce battle songs
Tell of fate, and victory, and strife…

And speak of loves gift, the birth of new life

Speak of the winter
And her passing in spring
Write, dear poet, write
Of joy, and suffering

And in the end when the day is done
When God doth beckon everyone
Accept your crown from his true hand

“Well done, well done, as you sojourned through that land”

For you, a watchful witness in the world
Have sung of visions, and hope
Laughter, and sorrow
And the banners of nations unfurled

May it never be
That your gifted hand is stayed
For the scene doth beckon still

Stand midst His grace
And yes, dare proclaim
Speak, and speak at will:

For God shall not abide
The dirge of the Silent Quill

©2011, Kathleen MacLintock

As I awaken from silvered starry dreams
Where even here she rules, and roams at will
She stands, and beckons with each new day

Entranced, I gaze onward, held captive by her sway

No, no, I cannot look away….

I gaze on:

For she beckons

And I dare, to take that first wary, halting step
For I am alone, and she stares, fiercely, from her depths

How has she found me?
Now come here am I:

For she beckons

And there to the east, the suns blaze her universe
While time holds court and dares to reckon
As farther in the west, the day falls to its end
Midst prayers of foe and friend, who survived her plans this day

And children arrive in this strange land
To her delighted loving gaze
As love abounds, and battles rage

And I? I gaze on:

For she beckons

She prevails, and I know that I must stand
Newly arrived, and naked, foreign in a foreign land
At last, I dare reach out to take her hand

We are one then, with eternity
We go henceforth, to face each newborn dawn
And I am humbled by her ways, but I press on

Her tapestry of eons, a cloak of wisdom renown
She has sojourned every age, nor shall she be cast down

Each face turns to her every day
Fine jewels midst many gems
Where even Kings dare not forsake
For she alone, is immune unto her whims

Divine child of Heavens hope
Heart of the love of God

I gaze on:

For Life beckons

©2011, Kathleen MacLintock

Art By: Josephine Wall

She is a Jewel of Neptune
Her emerald sea
Tinged in turquoise and blue

Robed in silver white beaches
Crowned by a sunburst sky
Ever shimmering in changing hue

The indigo of sunrise smitten suddenly
By the rising of each new sun
A feast of pinks and purples for the eye
In the early eastern sky

While sunsets
Caress Her in gold and red
And tinge Her waves
A molten silver of the sea

Thus, the Emerald Coast has always been
And She should always be

Bare Native feet and Buccaneer boots
Adventurers, pilgrims, and marching troops
Still trod Her shore as benevolent ghosts

Whilst Neptune rages beneath the Starry Host:

Against the Rape of the Emerald Coast

Graceful seagulls, regal herons
Her winged ambassadors
No longer bejewel
Her virgin white shore

No longer weave their windborne dance
Nor fish their supper
Nor cry out in joy as they explore

No, not even their cries remain

Vanished
Before the coming onslaught
Their absence dares loudly proclaim
Their home defiled, profaned

They are the first to flee
This heinous corporate stain
The stillness in their place is haunting
It speaks a word that can’t be named

We know not their fate
Only their silent absence

And with their leave
The ominous certainty
That we are losing sacred links
That we now stand on the brink
To witness:

The Rape of the Emerald Coast

Ahh! Her beauty!
How she has solaced thousands
With healing balmy winds
Kisses of the sun
And caressing silver waves

Alas
They have abandoned Her now
In Her hour of need

Laughing tourists
With pockets full of shells
And star crossed lovers
Who strolled Her
Moon graced sands

Returned now
To wherever they live

From whence they came
But for a moment
To revel midst her beauty

And to offer Her no more
Than the taking
Of all She had to give

And I arrive to behold
With my own eyes
This sacred ground
Of my home

And I find
I am helpless in great sorrow

For it is only the consolation
That She is not alone
That I am able to lay at Her sullied feet

It is only the tears of a useless observer
That accompany me to witness her tragic defeat

Nevertheless
The consolation I would give her
Arises raw and urgent in my soul

Though it be futile, and wasted
For nothing can protect Her
From their wretched, belching hole

The tar and lapping oil defy and mock
My paltry tear stained offering
Which cannot save Her, nor shield Her
From their foul, and wicked reek

While far out to sea in frantic abandon
The creatures die, as they scramble
Both the strong, and the meek

Still, I search the swirling blue sky
Marbled with gentle white clouds
As though aid may yet come
Upon some celestial wind or wing
It is hope, that I seek

That shimmering
Hue graced sky
Now devoid of birds
Answers in the silence
Of its eternal gaze

Glorious.
A background canvas
Of shimmering blues
One more silent witness to this shame
One more listener to the word which can’t be named

For the Sky is no avenger
We are two, but yet one
Unable to protect Her

We can but witness the beginning of Her end
Silent witnesses, stricken, helpless friends
We look on

And word comes of dolphin
Dying cruel and desperate deaths
Breathing torturous final breaths
Upon Her shores, upon our shores

While great ancient turtles burn alive
In rings of deep sea fires
Set to burn by the corporate whores

As even now, their oil and their slime
Seize their day and in cruel time
Strangle Her once sheltering shore

Like the hand of some evil assailant
The onslaught defiles Her
And every wave, each child of Her breast
Is forced to stain Her even more

Helpless to their filth and greed
She lays mute and exposed
And even now begins to bleed

Beneath a swirling summer sky
And tear filled human eyes
She bleeds in silence

The putrid, flowing fare
Of the Deep Horizon
Binds Her in its snare

For all the wondrous beauty
We once beheld and ever cherished
Each soul now weeps in outraged tears
As sacred ground is perished

From Her turquoise gown
Hemmed in sea silver waves
To Her virgin white shore
Her coves and Her bays

For all those whom She touched
She who gave so many, so much

For all She has shared
There is now
Only this that we can boast:

We beheld the heinous days
Of the Rape of the Emerald Coast

Graceful seagulls, regal herons
Her winged ambassadors
No longer bejewel Her virgin white shore

No longer weave their windborne dance
Nor fish their supper
Nor cry out in joy as they explore

No, not even their cries remain

While far out to sea in frantic abandon
The creatures die, as they scramble
Both the strong, and the meek

There is no haven, no hiding
From their Hell Spawn of the deep

And word comes of dolphin
Dying cruel and desperate deaths
Breathing torturous final breaths
Upon Her shores, upon our shores

While great ancient turtles burn alive
In rings of deep sea fires
Set to burn by the corporate whores

Men in suits and ties
Corporate greed and corporate lies
Have wrought this crime before our eyes

To these, I charge the word which can’t be named
To these, I lay every well earned stroke of blame

She is a Jewel of Neptune
Her emerald sea
Tinged in turquoise and blue

Robed in silver white beaches
Crowned by a sunburst sky
Ever shimmering in changing hue

The indigo of sunrise smitten suddenly
By the rising of each new sun
A feast of pinks and purples for the eye
In the early eastern sky

While sunsets
Caress Her in gold and red
And tinge Her waves
A molten silver of the sea

Thus, the Emerald Coast has always been
And She should always be

Bare Native feet and Buccaneer boots
Adventurers, pilgrims, and marching troops
Watchful eyes, weep from sacred posts
Now the living mourn, midst ancient ghosts

For Hell hath been wrought on our Emerald Sea
Where Death boldly stalks
And in vain, creatures flee

Pray Heaven above for the dying and dead
For our shores grow blackened
Our sea turns red

Whilst Neptune rages beneath the Starry Host:

Damn the Rape of the Emerald Coast!

©2010, Kathleen MacLintock

“The Rape of the Emerald Coast is based upon the BP Deepwater Horizon Oil Spill, the disaster that struck the Southern states in the Gulf of Mexico in April 20, 2010, and actively continued to dump millions of gallons of oil into the Gulf until December 17, 2010.  Total environmental impact is as of yet unknown, as scientists announce as recently as early spring of 2011, that the sea floor is still covered in oil, and that baby dolphins are begining to wash up dead upon the shores, apparently impacted by remaining oil in the Gulf, in spite of “repair” of the leak months before.   

You stand across the sea
And stare with hatred
Upon our golden shore
Twisted, darkened souls
Who declare us Satan’s Whore

And we
A people benevolent, and free
Have sought no more
Than the safety of our borders
While we have tolerated you
And your rockets, and your mortars

The innocent slain
Have fallen by your murderous hand
Both here, and far away
Whithersoever your footsteps mar the land

And now, in this hour
Our finest stand
Opposing your self righteous tyranny:

And you will yet know
The plunder of your battlements
By the courage, by the honor
By the bloodshed of the free

For your wicked way shall falter
Your plans return to your own roof
You shall yet stumble
And no more shall you stand
Proud, and aloof

The command shall be given
You shall be crushed beyond repair
From the field you shall be driven
And your banner fallen there

For the plan shall be in order:

To Terror, no quarter

The bondage of oppression
You would yoke upon our backs
With your false God, and your Jihad
And your hate, and your attacks

It shall all be laid to waste
It shall not secure your cause
For we will never bow
Nor surrender to your laws

Your minions yet shall falter
Your generals will fall low
The light shall strike your altar
And you shall soon yet know

That Justice shall not be denied

For the reckoning shall find you
Innocent blood shall make its claim
For the darkness ever blinds you
You are a foul and heinous stain

Spewing forth your hatred
Delusional martyrs do your will
But know your days are numbered
And your fate awaits you still

For every drop of blood
For every tear you made
You shall pay recompense
And your cause shall yet be stayed

In a place where shadows dwell
Confined in chains
Banished, to the darkest depths of Hell

We have seen you before
In ages past, time and time again
With unjust hatred, and bloody war
Sowing death on bitter winds

And for the sake of the innocent
Who dwell at peril in your midst
We have stayed our hand, and taken all
And yet you still insist

That you will destroy

With blackened banners unfurled
And arms to maim and kill
You declare you will take the world
And you say it is God’s will

While women wail in your wake
And children die by your bombs
You dare to call on Heaven
And feign to boast of wrongs

While the Peaceful dream of Utopia
And the Gentle hold out for release
Our warriors come onward to crush you
For your evil goes on to increase

Through ages you’ve waged war, with arms and cruel intent
While over and over again, the finest have been sent

To pay the price
For your wicked dream of power
Our finest gave their all
To halt you in those hours

Now we sacrifice our own
To spare your helpless innocents
While by your own hand, they bleed and groan
And cringe in fearful discontent

Down thru every age
You kill, and curse, and rage
Sowing death upon the land
As rose red blood spills upon the sand

The cost of those who stand
To oppose your outstretched hand
To deliver
From your twisted, hateful plans

Your defeat is always certain
For there shall never be appeal
You fall in every age
Then you rise again to kill

No, you will not cease
To plague the earth, and curse the peace
That saner men embrace

For your heart is black as Satan
And he leads you from his place

A place where shadows dwell

Now once more you shall fall
And in that final hour
Your false God shall fall with you
And there shall be no power

To deliver from Heaven’s wrath

For God does stand opposed
Where your Terror dares to laugh

You stand across the sea
And stare with hatred
Upon our golden shore
Twisted, darkened souls
Who declare us Satan’s Whore

And we
A people benevolent, and free
Have sought no more
Than the safety of our borders
While we have tolerated you
And your rockets, and your mortars

The command shall be given
You shall be crushed beyond repair
From the field you shall be driven
And your banner fallen there

The line it shall be held
For the plan shall be in order
The darkness shall be quelled:

To Terror, no quarter

©2010, Kathleen MacLintock

Authors note: This is not a statement against peaceful moderate muslims. This is a statement against extremists, jihadists. I believe all extremists who murder innocent people in the name of God to be perversions of the faith they claim to represent, followers of false gods.  I have said the same even of other faiths, please see “Damn the Tyrant”, an older piece simliar in nature. I want to emphasize that religous persecution is a form of tyranny I could never support, so be aware that this is not an indictment against peaceful muslims, it is a statement against those who pervert their faith in  the name of “God”.

“Aye, I knew ‘em
Knew ‘em well
Them two be spitfires
Never did fear no man
Not even their Da,
Nor the law,
Nor the crown”

And he spat on the ground
As the hammers rang on
And the gallows loomed larger
With the break of the dawn

And the jailer slept on
On his stool by the stair
As above in the tower
Came one final prayer

Jack knelt down
To repent with a plea
As the lock gave a shriek
With a turn of the key

And there she stood
With that look on her face
Which told him at once
He had fallen from grace

While along the prison ramparts
The torches glowed a ‘blazing
The Kings guard rode the hour
And the sentry languished gazing

Upon the street below
Where furtive shadows flow
Back into the night
When comes the morning light
And no one ever knows

It can never be said
What went to their head

Was it pieces of eight
Or a blade at their hip?
The great get away
Just to give ‘em the slip?
The wind in their hair
On the deck of the ship?

Or the freedom to dare,
To take that first trip?

It didn’t matter anymore

Their ship
Lay at anchor in the shallows
Their captain in chains
Prepared for the gallows

Anne and Mary not far behind
The hangman would have them
And damned be their kind

For it had been decreed
And the sentence was most fair
The Master well knew
Who deserved to be there

But for child in their belly
And grace by their side
They would hang with Jack today
Cursed, and despised

But reprieve came by law
For the babes in their wombs
Anne and Mary would hang
But not quite so soon

And she stood there
Gazing at poor Jack
His bruises healed from their attack

But his handsome face was gleaming
And a ghastly sheen unseemly
Seem to make him small and mealy
And his eyes no longer steely
Were haunted by a threat

With a look she’d not forget

Was it merely early morning sweat?
Or was it something other?
A fear that had beset

The Condemned

As on the hammers rang
Below down in the street
Where the hungry mob would gather
And send him off to meet
His Maker

And the laughter rose to window
From bawdy workmen down below
The sun was growing larger
With every hammers blow

By noon it would be ready
The gallows new and strong
The crowd would come on steady
Throughout the morning long

As the laughter came and went
They stared in that cruel cell
Where Anne had come to see him
And bid him last farewell

The guard had been most gracious
To let her have this chance
She no more than Jack
A prisoner soon to dance

But now, right here she stood
And there, he now stood too
Staring at each other
Not knowing what to do

Impatient with the heat
And the flies and rotted meat
Impatient with him too
And the hell he’d put them through

She cast pity to the wind
And raised her pretty chin

Her black eyes glowed,
Defiant and pure
Her hand found hip,
Where her blade was once sure

And she spoke her words,
Leaving Jack no cure:

“I’m sorry Jack.
Had ye fought like a man
Ye would not be now about to die like a dog.
Do straighten yourself up!”

And with that,
Jack broke down
With a choked and ragged sob

How could she be so cold
To curse a dying dog?

She gazed once more behind him
At the courtyard there below
Then there was nothing left to say
And she turned away to go

The door slammed to behind her
The guard caught unaware
He took her by her elbow
And led her down the stair

Back to her own hell
To the foul and filthy cell
Where she waited out her womb
There with Mary in the room
They shared their wretched doom

Waiting for their gallows dance
Never dreaming of a chance
To make away

And the roar of the crowd
Found her at high noon
She knew then Jack had left her
And glanced at Mary in the gloom

Her friend so brave and stalwart
So strong, and sure, and fierce
Had grown so weak and saddened
Anne’s heart was pricked and pierced

She knew it would be soon
That Mary too, would die
Not by their decree
You could see it in her eye

Her friend was sick with fever
And the babe, it drained her so
She’d never face her hanging
She hadn’t long to go

A fortnight came and passed
With the stench, and the heat, and the rain
Then Mary breathed her last, and ended there her pain

They took her away,
To a cold convict grave
Too brazen, a pirate,
A soul they won’t save,
A sailor, a bandit
Worse:

A woman too brave

And the babe in her womb
Which never saw day
Went with her that night
To the grave where she lay

And Anne paced on
In that dark, fetid cell
The cold, filthy floor
Bore the stains of pure hell

Of many gone before
Who had but once
Come through the door
To never leave again

And the dreams began…

Rocking her
On the sea once more
The snapping of sail
And the creak of the oar

And there came the King’s men
Armed to the teeth
While Jack and the crew
Lay passed out beneath

The Deck

And there they stood
With flintlock and sword
Mary, and she
Against that great horde

And onward they came
And strutted the deck
With fire and flame
And a rope for the neck

They hurled Jack up
And the crew from below
Shackled their chains
And beat them with blows

Bloody and battered
They sailed them to shore
In the bowels of the ship
Behind bolted door

There the trial had been fast
Not much there to say
No need to pretend
No means there to sway

The Master was cruel
As he gazed from the bench
The crew must all hang
Especially the wench!

Mary bore it so brave
‘Ner a word was said
Anne swore an oath
And stared at Jack’s head

Damn him for this!
It was all his to blame
He and the crew
And their liquor and games!

Drinking til daylight
Knowing the risk
The King’s galleon too near
To tempt fate like this…

And once more she wakened
In that foul fetid cell
And something was different

But she could not yet tell…

What was that there
In the window above?
A shadow? A blade?
A stealthy strong glove?

Yes!
It was!

And the grating scraped
As the hands worked away
And no word was said
As she watched, and she prayed

To Gods of the Sea
To Gods of Men
To her loved ones gone on
And to Mary, her friend

Not far from the prison
The sea rolled and swelled
The tides heaved to
And the watchman tolled bells

“All is well”….

The sloop moved in
As dark as the night
Black sails cloaked in shadow
Crew out of sight

Her party ashore
A boat on the beach
She stole round the bend
Anchored far out of reach

And there back at the prison
The hand broke through the grate
A rope lowered down
And hoisted Anne’s weight

The horses below well hidden from sight
The shadow that freed her, bid come, and take flight

And the hooves struck spark
On the cobble stone street
They rode away in the dark
To the rendezvous meet

And the jailer slept on
On his stool by the stair
As above in the tower
There was one missing there

While along the prison ramparts
The torches glowed a ‘blazing
The Kings guard rode the hour
And the sentry languished gazing

Upon the street below
Where furtive shadows flow
Back into the night
When comes the morning light
And no one ever knows

The shouts never came
From the prison, nor square
Daylight broke the same
As it always had there

But far out to sea
Midst the wind and waves
Stood a woman condemned
Set free from the grave

There was life to be had
And seas yet to sail
And never again
Would her heart make her fail

Jack was dead
And his lot by his side
Mary gone on
With no tear in her eye

Anne it was said
Was a mystery gone
But the truth will be found
When one searches on

Anne is not missing
She sails on in the wind
No prison, no chains
No longer condemned

Eternal her spirit
With the wind and the sea
For the Gods honor them
Who demand to be free

If you sail down by Jamaica
You may see a black sloop low
With the Jolly Roger flying
And the lanterns all aglow

Have a care,
And show respect
A captain there,
Still walks the deck

With a flintlock in the belt,
And a cutlass on the hip:

Anne Bonny proudly sails,
They’ll never take her ship!

©2009, Kathleen MacLintock

“The Ballad of Bonny and Read” is based upon the life of female pirates Anne Bonny and Mary Read who sailed with Captain Calico Jack Rackham circa 1720.  Taken to Jamaica for trial, Jack and the crew, including Anne Bonny and Mary Read, were sentenced to be hung.  Anne and Mary were both pregnant at the time of their sentencing.  Under English law it was illegal to hang a pregnant woman so their sentence was held until they could give birth.  Mary died in prison of fever awaiting childbirth and her hanging.  Anne, whose trial is well recorded with the sentence of execution, mysteriously vanished from the pages of history without ever having been executed according to record. 

“Damn any man who sympathizes with Indians! … I have come to kill Indians, and believe it is right and honorable to use any means under God’s heaven to kill Indians.” ~Colonel John Chivington, U.S. Army~

Guardian of my people?

I did as the great white War Chief counseled

But my colors unfurled in vain,
As the blood flowed down like rain
And the Blue Coats came ever on,
In the Fall of the misted, mountain dawn…

I, being innocent
Had no fear of Chivington’s soldiers;
We had gone where we were told,
And we had done as we were asked

I raised their flag, I made it our flag

And beneath it,
Though their black hearts were masked:

I trusted, beneath the shadow of their banner

Had I known what I know now,
Perhaps it might have been,
That we had not had to chant the Death Song,
Nor weep upon the wind, for so long

That summer kissed us farewell in warning
But as fools, we dreamed on of peace…

Until that dream lay shattered
In the season when the women dress the fleece

The cold, cruel morn of Chivington
Came as a storm upon our innocents;
Our great wound shall never heal of pain

And their spirits shall ever be recalled,
As the slaughtered of the Blue Coats cruel stain

My people,
Who lay sleeping there
Beneath the starry tresses,
Of Grandmother Moon

Children of the Plains,
And Children all to soon,
Of atrocities cruel stroke:

For I, Chief Black Kettle, stood trusting
Camped beneath the ancient bows of Oak

While in the crisp fall sunrise air,
The smoke of banked fires,
Curling upward like a prayer;
Like a spiraled, misted stair,
Before the Heaven of early morning

As though somehow knowing,
That need, to yet be great
For mercy, to lay wait
Before each tent, and at each gate
It seemed to send a silent warning

The smoke rose up
To kiss the morning air,
And Heaven wept the dew,
As many soldiers came in blue,
To stalk the weak, and slay the true

To gather there enraged,
Round that camp, they now had caged
And dance with Satan on the stage:

At Sand Creek

Eyes ablaze with shock,
At the sight upon the rocks,
Black Kettle leapt to,
And raised the Red, White, and Blue

Chief Black Kettle, stood trusting

Army cannons mocked in glee,
The noble banner of the free
With putrid breath,
And foul, cruel shot,
They aimed for death,
And cast their lot

Upon the land of the place they walked
By shore, and by cruel steed:

Their shots rang right on true,
To slay the many as they flew…

Yet…

Upon the bloody red shore of Sand Creek
Where lay for ‘ere, the slain and meek

Chief Black Kettle, stood trusting

He called his people near,
And while many bled in tears,
As the hailstorm split their ears
He promised they’d be safe,
Beneath that banner held so dear

And every mothers face,
Began to shed a tear….

As children screamed,
And old men gazed with weakened hands,
At weapons they could no more command

And onward came Chivington, enraged and gory…

Chief Black Kettle stood trusting:

And raised faithful eyes,
Beneath the shadow of Old Glory

She streamed forth, blazing brilliant
In the early morning light
And with her flew in peace
The gentle Banner White

The colors of the ally,
And of he who does not fight,
Flew there sweetly in the light,
Of Sand Creek’s early morning

Flew there sweetly,
In the light at Sand Creek
Fell there bloody, at days end,
Beside the blood stained meek

For onward came the carnage
Beneath Chivington’s fire and blade;
Ignoring there, Old Glory
Intent of cruel tirade

Chivington rode boldly forward,
The screams of the slain in his path;
His soldiers were carnal, and brutal
His cavalry, bathed in blood bath

Mothers clinging to their children,
Falling to earth on their knees
While onward came the Blue Coats,
And shots poured from the trees

Splattering there in red,
The colors of the living,
As they became the martyred dead…

Butchering women and children,
Hunting those too old to fight
Slaying, and maiming, and laughing,
Daring to call it his right

Chivington shall ‘ere be remembered,
To be foul, and depraved, and a liar
For his honor is blackened to cinder,
Round the trees of Sand Creek’s bitter fires

For as the blood flowed red to the river,
The living defiled the dead
And murdered there undelivered,
Lay the meek, on the fields of blood red

Where the voices cried out in sorrow,
From the living over their dead;
Through time, and through all tomorrow,
Will ‘ere be heard, it is said

For God did shed a tear,
Upon the horror, and the fear
Upon the hatred, and the shame:

Wrought by evil on the meek,
As they lay dying at Sand Creek,
In the mountain misted rain

Where Blue Coats once stood gloating,
With blood stains on their hands
Where bodies, torn and bloating,
Bore witness on the land

Where Old Glory shone in splendor,
For here,
She flew to save these souls

Where Chivington trod,
Enraged, and cursed God,
And the Cheyenne wind ever blows:

Chief Black Kettle, stood trusting…

Guardian of my people?

I did as the great white War Chief counseled

But my colors unfurled in vain,
As the blood flowed down like rain
And the Blue Coats came ever on,
In the Fall of the misted, mountain dawn…

©2009, Kathleen MacLintock

Dedicated to Chief Black Kettle, peace advocate of the Cheyenne nation, and those of his people who fell at the Sand Creek Massacre, in the year 1864. Surviving Sand Creek, Chief Black Kettle and his wife were murdered four years later in 1868, at the Washita River Massacre.  In both massacres, Chief Black Kettle had camped where told to camp by the United States Army.  At Washita River, Black Kettle’s camp was once more assaulted, this time by General Custer’s 7th Calvary. Fleeing the massacre on a pony, Chief Black Kettle and his wife were shot in the back and murdered, trying to cross the river while running for their lives from Custer’s troops. 

She arrived beneath a Kansas summer sun
With her eye on the sky, on a mission meant for one
A comet yet to blaze, an enigma to amaze
Searching for the lighthouse, she had come

On Destiny’s wings, on a hope, on a prayer
She came boldly on, and she dared to dare
She never heard their “No’s”,
She had so many miles to go

Searching for the lighthouse, she had come

And her youth, it could not hold her
Though the winters ‘ere grew colder
And wrapped,
The girl in brown, who walks alone
In lonely, frozen fields, near strangers homes

Yet, her blue eyes never wavered
As every cloud she savored
She dreamed of soaring,
Ever soaring, at the wheel

And the lighthouse urged her onward at her heel

By the age of 21, all the roadblocks now were gone
And she made her way up north, to greet her fate
Twas there, she first took wind and made her way

Silver wings, and hopes and dreams, and tears of joy
She sailed onward to the sun, and dared rejoice

And her medals came on shining
And her ribbons shone in hue
No trail she would not blaze
In that last frontier of blue

Searching for the lighthouse, she had come
Silver wings, and hope, and prayer, flew to the sun

Then near the Dragon’s Sea
In an ageless mystery
Her voice called out, in one more final call
Never more to ever reach, and touch us all

Lost unto the night, and growing small
As a star who moves ‘ere onward,
Ore’ the wall
She was lost to the horizon, for us all

And the lighthouse shone it’s light
Into that cruel, and ruthless night
And her blues eyes searched from starry fields above
And to those who could still hear, she sent her love

And she soared into the light of Seven Suns
With a broken wing, a hope, and a prayer,
She finally found it shining there:

Searching for the lighthouse, she had come

©2009, Kathleen MacLintock

Inspired by Amelia Earhart, and “Amelia’s Lighthouse”, which stands on Howland Island in the Pacific Ocean, near where her plane went down at sea in 1937.