Poem By: Stella

A Picnic on the Battle Field

On to Manassas

The Feds and Rebels tramped

Quickly and boldly

Closing on the enemies’ camp

Muskets flashing, swords clashing

Onward, Onward,

On to Manassas

Forward to the picnic ground

Beginning of War

They said ‘twould be the end

Neither side would bend

Blue and gray, at mid-day, clashing

Powder and ball are no game at all

Onward, Onward

On to Manassas

On to the picnic ground

Women packed baskets

Cookies and tea, milk for children

It wasn’t a picnic, ‘twas a panic

Babies crying, men dying

‘Twas no picture book at all

To see my son and husband fall

Onward, Onward

On to Manassas

On to the picnic ground

To see them moan, groan

Hear the call of dead man’s fall

Picnic baskets in the cloud,

Women weeping in the shroud

Never to see that beloved face

This, the fault of our fallen race

Onward, Onward

On to Manassas

On to the picnic ground…