FREEDOM BATTLE: In Remembrance of Our Troops

Dedicated to the memory of our dear friends and neighbours, Mr. Roy Wingfield and Mr Alex Grotkowski
And to the known and unknown soldiers who lay down their lives in loyalty to truth, justice, and freedom

The wind is cold and bitter is the blast
That bows across these desolate plains,
Where the Grim Reaper in gloom o’er passed
The bodies which fell on the Battle’s domain.
But the weary wind through the pine boughs blowing
Is weeping with tears never hollow nor dearth,
It glides as a phantom and speaks with the earth,
Saying “This is the place where their blood was flowing.
 
“Fearest thou death? O stranger come hither,
And behold with thine eye – tremble not!
Canst thou not hear through the echoing years
The combats loud din, see the dreadful feud fought?
Hark ye the cry of the stout, bold and brave,
Canada’s troops who stepped forward to save,
‘For country, for sovereignty - cut through the fray!
For pride of dominion – though death be our pay!’
 
Charged they fearless to the battlefield,
Forward! Forward! They gallantly strode!
Though a bloody fight for them was sealed,
Though for some certain death was the ill forebode.
Now they lay silent, poppies shelter their grave,
These warriors fought for us – stout, bold and brave!
They suffered, they died, in the tumult of war,
The friend and the foe sided by side in the gore.”
 
Tarnish not worth as Time duly passes
O’er their bodies and memories,
For still the wind blows through the fading grasses
In murmurs subdued to reverence their stories.
“They died in their glory, for honour and fame,
Their brave-hearted will I shall ever proclaim;
Forget not their blood, the crimson turf staining,
And remember their lives, in silence remaining.”

COPYRIGHT 2021 BROOKLYN K. BIEGEL

FIRST PUBLISHED IN NOVEMBER 2012 BY “WISDOM FAMILY MAGAZINE”

Autumn Thoughts

A contented breeze down the harvest slope is wandering
Piping sweetly an airy tune through wood and dale,
Chanting of golden years, of young days pondering –
Ah! These last lingering days in a misty veil.
The frenzy of Spring is past,
And the flush of Summer is cast
To the wind, and blows away
As a dream or the minstrel’s lay.
 
Behold! The graceful aspens gold are turning,
The sunshine glens are brimming with melodies fervid,
As ancient maples richly are crimson burning,
And through this forest-haze and scarfing blue they're vivid.
Oh! The musty smell of half-rot leaves
Fallen by Wind’s unseen thieves
Scatter ‘cross this forest floor
By some amber phantom bore!
 
As these mellow days in graceful harmony wane,
The fervour of life is languishing in passive calm,
The days grow short, and through all the vast domain
Of Autumns’s blessed abode, there drifts a dulcet balm.
The Pied Piper of old did sing,
For the children did his chant ring
Through the world – as such a ray
Shall this Old Year flit away!

COPYRIGHT 2021 BROOKLYN K. BIEGEL

FIRST PUBLISHED IN FALL 2012 BY “RURAL ROOTS MAGAZINE”

Sunlight

It filters through the casement high
Casting light, benevolent shadows
Betwixt deeper ones where they once brooded
In the recesses of old tree hollows.
 
It shines into the children’s room,
Into where they play so merry,
To touch upon brows innocent
The hand of a sunlight fairy.
 
The flighty step alights within,
And between this forest weaves,
The gloom away from graceful boughs,
Turns to golden sheen its somber leaves.
 
It floods in glow the vales deep,
Dancing cheerfully with flowers;
In the pond is smiling sprightly
As it brings us sunny bowers.
 
Sweet beams of joy in brilliance!
So soft you come to warm and cheer
Us all in the despondent times;
To melt away each doleful tear.
 
So when the rain of life should come,
Woeful times to grieve has given,
We know that there is sunlight still,
If we lift our hearts to Heaven!

COPYRIGHT 2021 BROOKLYN K. BIEGEL

FRIST PUBLISHED IN SEPTEMBER 2012 BY “WISDOM FAMILY MAGAZINE”