Jackies poetry site 
  Jackie Kays

 [ My Poetry List ] | [ Poetry Poem ] | Today's Poetry | Sign In

  Sign Guestbook
  Read Guestbook

 Beautiful Atlanta (The death of Atlanta- 2nd of Sept. 1864)

A warm breeze stirred the Spanish moss in the old sycamore,
on that bright summer morn of September the second,
in the year of eighteen sixty four.

In a cloud of black powder smoke, a hundred canons delivered
Atlanta's death blow in one terrifying roar.
Atlanta, Atlanta, O' beautiful Atlanta will you be no more?

The gray pickets fell, as ten thousand blue coats swarmed
Atlanta's gate.
Atlanta, Atlanta what will be your fate?

Sherman lit the torch to Atlanta, then turned to the East and marched triumphantly to the sea.
Atlanta, Atlanta, O' beautiful Atlanta what have they done to thee?

Flames and smoke rise above the grassy hills, as far as the tearful
eye could see.
Oh! Where… Oh! Where…
is the army of Robert E. Lee?

Atlanta, Atlanta, Oh! beautiful Atlanta will you rise from the ashes
like a Phoenix and return to thee with resounding jubilee?

Someday… Oh! someday,
we shall see.

Jackie R. Kays
Copyright 1964

Vote for this poem

Please Comment On This Poem


 Email Address


Vote for this poem
 [ My Poetry List ] | [ Poetry Poem ] | Today's Poetry | Sign In

©2000 - 2022 Individual Authors. All rights reserved.