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Samantha Moore
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Glory Reaped
My hair cut short, my breasts were bound
For to the war beat my heart sounded
Off I'd ride from castle keep
Bright glory for to reap!
My Father brave, a man of war
Was valor bent unto the core
No comely gown or girlish wile
Would win my Father's smile.
I hungered to defend the realm
With sword and shield and shining helm
Though he'd no son, I'd be his pride
And off to war would ride!
Great aspirations I had known
And here I was, all on my own
No blushing maid or mother hen,
But equal among men!
We sang, we drank, some brawled and fought
Camaraderie was all we sought
We drew our swords upon the morn
And stood as brothers sworn.
The sun was low within the sky
We waited for the horn to cry
And watched the treetops fill with crows
To feast upon our foes.
The clanging crash of sword on shield,
Commands from each for each to yield,
A thrill as great as any host
Ran though me like a ghost.
The world of reason bled away
And wild of heart within the fray
I floated in a field of wrath
And marveled at my path!
The battle won, we stopped for breath
While wounded foemen prayed for death;
Triumphant on the field stood we,
Vivat for Victory!
Deep within, I swelled with pride
I now could stand at Father's side
And share the joy of battles won,
As strong as any son!
So I turned to find my own
And reap the glory I had sown,
But ere I sought the promised prize,
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What horror met my eyes!
Lying like a broken toy,
Upon the ground a wounded boy
Ten years of age and not much more,
Came crawling to the fore.
I threw my helm from off my head,
The field around me rank with dead,
And here before me, but a lad
In rusty armor clad.
'Dearest Sister is that you?
How came you here? Can this be true?
Run, Sister, run you far away
And seek another day!
I cannot see, the light is gone,
Oh Sister, I am all alone!
Tell our Father that I tried;
Remember me with pride.'
He died there gently in my arms;
The glory won had lost its charms
I saw the truth of what I'd done-
I'd slain some Mother's son.
I gazed around and saw the slain,
Who knew no glory, only pain;
How different now my triumph seemed
As dying soldiers screamed!
What glory in the bow or blade?
What honor can through death be made
When children are the sacrifice
And innocence the price?
Away I ran, and to this day,
My husband works, my children play;
I thirst no longer for the fight,
Nor envy squire nor knight.
My son will never know the sword,
My girl, for sweetness find reward
My husband's hands will know the stain
Of Earth, and not the slain
And I will reap what I will sow
And take my joy when green things grow…
Let others who hold life too cheap
Their so-called glory reap!
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