At Rest
2008 by Ellin Anderson
 
  BEAU SANG

Ellin Anderson


Armed in the manner
Of ages gone by,
They raise the old banner:
"Beau Sang!" they cry,
Where farmer and bard
Live in anger and pain,
Bled like the vineyard
And threshed like the grain.

Red leaf-buds cling
To the trees where they go,
The first of the spring,
And the last of the snow,
Where soldier and standard
Were taken in vain:
Bled like the vineyard,
And threshed like the grain.

White fires spark
From the hills where they ride,
And the storm and the dark
Are swirling aside,
Where traitor and blackguard
Hang dead in the rain,
Bled like the vineyard,
And threshed like the grain.


2008 by Ellin Anderson. All rights reserved. No part of  this work may be copied or used in any way without written  permission from the author.

 

   

 

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Ellin Anderson's Biography

 

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