To Fiddlers’ Green
Go rest ye now ol’ Sergeant Low
Though on the battle rages still
Your artillerymen are fed
Well supplied to shell yonder hill.
Beyond Heaven’s Pearly Gates
And ‘Halfway down the trail to hell’
To Fiddlers’ Green your soul departs
Dip now your canteen in that well.
This King of Battle quiet now
Run well you have life’s mortal race
Eternal life doth beckoned you
Enter into His loving grace.
Thoughts of inspiration come in many forms, and may be expressed in many ways. The collection of stories, essays, and poetry shared under Red Edge Perspective represents some of my personal efforts to Gain The Red Edge through creative expression. Thanks for letting me share.