"montgomery" poems
fall was in the air and it was a very dreary october day. the halls of the old victorian house had been filled with new arivals and lots of noise.
"i can barely hear myself think." Madison sneered, a cigarette in her hand as she stood next to zoey and nan in the hallway. looking at the new girls with disguist. "and none of these new ******* better step on my toes. this isnt ******* hogwarts." she rolled her eyes. "hogwarts." zoey laughed, making nan laugh aswell. "if this were hogwarts, you would be draco malfoy" nan joked. "hardy har har." Madison snickered. "and you would be harry potters fat cousin because your ugly and nobody loves you." madison smiled. "well, i think it's great." zoey said cheerfully. "all of these girls would feel lost and alone and now they have somewhere to belong.". "you would say that." Madison rolled her eyes. suddenly a slightly younger girl with big green eyes and long brown hair and freckles rushed up to the three of them with a gleam in her eye. "oh my god it is you! you're madison montgomery!" the girl explained. " i love you! will you sign my back pack?" the girl turned around and Madison pulled a pink highlighter out of the side of her floral backpack. her face lit up as she wrote her name on the backpack making zoey and nan smile aswell. "thank you! thank you! thank you! you're my idol." the girl blushed. "my name is Cassie motts, i've seen all of your movies, i love you! i love you! i love you!" the girl giggled. "alright.." Madison had been taken back a step. "have a great day you little ****** she smiled, a look of confusion hung upon her face. "thank you.. you dont know how much this means to me." the girl explained cheerfully and walked away. "well ladies it looks like we're the head honchoes around this **** show." Madison sighed, still slightly smiling. "i was always the head honchoe." nan replied. "yeah, okay, right." zoey rolled her eyes and smiled at nan as the three made there way down the hall together.
Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 7:14 PM UTC
There once was a black man... Old at heart, he fought verbally and accordingly with bold words, which abbreviated and arbitrated great art! He spoke of activism. Not just racial, and economic racism. He fought against demonic injustices for you, yes, made me see. He stood for principles of non-violence. Acknowledged corrupt government
mileage, European knowledge and college. A philosopher, teacher
and preacher as well as a civil rights leader. When he spoke his words of fire indeed chiseled and inspired. Causing some to conspire and also perspire! Born January 15th 1929 in Atlanta, Georgia. Named in honor of the German protestant Martin Luther. Bachelor of Arts
degree in sociology. Making a mark in doctoral studies, systematic theology. June 5th 1955 This King married Corretta Scott in Heiberger,
Alabama for many to see. Proceeding with four children: Yolanda, Martin Luther the 3rd to be! Dexter Scott and Bernice to increase the peace. Despite the European police, the movements and stressed
protests, the silence, ****** and racial violence. The segregation and interrogations in force, instead of integration of course. Black mishaps, lack of differences in relapse perhaps! Plagiarized and slandered, demised by some of the wise. Accused of communistic ties. Blinded
by others’ eyes and of our world’s twisted lies. Montgomery, Georgia
bus boycott, 1955 was the year. However, forever in disguise, our fear of tears was apparently adhered. From here to near, also all those dear. Mere letters he wrote, from Birmingham jail I quote! From the slums, some of sums, hail and prevail! A creation prevailing into a deriving and thriving nation. Mr. King’s vision of a dream, mission,
opposition, optimism and truism, on our wars, welfare and more. I suppose this sounds honest and fair. Mr. King’s theories and worries in emotionalism, evangelism, humanitarianism, racism and socialism. Nobel Peace Prize won in 1964. Regretfully, you may have heard of this before. Government conspiracies and indecencies. Assassination
and discrimination, allegedly, by James Earl Ray. On April 4th, I
almost choke, because for him, his blood did soak. Some thought this **** was a thrill or forced by will. Others still procrastinate in hate! However, forever Martin Luther King was and still is one of the late greats.
Mar 26, 2012
Mar 26, 2012 at 12:53 PM UTC
To Two Nonnas
@2007 Linda Barrett
We can't afford to go to Italy
So you both bring it to us
We hear in the music of your names,
each syllable coming from your mouths,
vocal chords and tongues
that dance fast Italian tarantellas
from your shared cubicle
You both should have been sisters
Born on the same month
And sailed into America
on the same ship.
You bring us Italy
through your cooking:
olive oil drenched cole slaw
made zesty with ground pepper and salt,
amaretto cookies placed on our desks
deep fried calamari rings
at the Willow Grove Bennigan's
and Italian restaurants
in a Maple Glen shopping center.
You both embrace us
with still strong Nonna arms
and crochet bright pink baby clothes
for expecting employees.
On the weekends,
you become bocce ball champs
in Montgomery County
where Italian is still spoken,
To uphold up the old country's heritage
This poem comes out
from our love to you
because just by being our friends
we want to save all our pennies
to see what Italy is really like.
Feb 4, 2012
Feb 4, 2012 at 7:38 PM UTC
Montgomery! true, the common lot
Of mortals lies in Lethe’s wave;
Yet some shall never be forgot,
Some shall exist beyond the grave.
“Unknown the region of his birth,”
The hero rolls the tide of war;
Yet not unknown his martial worth,
Which glares a meteor from afar.
His joy or grief, his weal or woe,
Perchance may ’scape the page of fame;
Yet nations, now unborn, will know
The record of his deathless name.
The Patriot’s and the Poet’s frame
Must share the common tomb of all:
Their glory will not sleep the same;
‘That’ will arise, though Empires fall.
The lustre of a Beauty’s eye
Assumes the ghastly stare of death;
The fair, the brave, the good must die,
And sink the yawning grave beneath.
Once more, the speaking eye revives,
Still beaming through the lover’s strain;
For Petrarch’s Laura still survives:
She died, but ne’er will die again.
The rolling seasons pass away,
And Time, untiring, waves his wing;
Whilst honour’s laurels ne’er decay,
But bloom in fresh, unfading spring.
All, all must sleep in grim repose,
Collected in the silent tomb;
The old, the young, with friends and foes,
Fest’ring alike in shrouds, consume.
The mouldering marble lasts its day,
Yet falls at length an useless fane;
To Ruin’s ruthless fangs a prey,
The wrecks of pillar’d Pride remain.
What, though the sculpture be destroy’d,
From dark Oblivion meant to guard;
A bright renown shall be enjoy’d,
By those, whose virtues claim reward.
Then do not say the common lot
Of all lies deep in Lethe’s wave;
Some few who ne’er will be forgot
Shall burst the ******* of the grave.
2.9k
It sings to me
On the dark side of midnight.
The deep, throbbing song
Courses through my veins.
It robs me of sleep
With its hurtful music;
Woven throughout me a
Sadistic opera of pain.
Screeching aria’s fill my
Head with brain-snapping sound,
While the chorus accompanies
With low, deep down thrumming.
Once begun, this opera of horror
Will sing for hours at a time.
No breaks allowed for this
Captive audience of one.
It sings until satisfied
My body won’t be worth a ****
Wrung limp from the awful music
Of the tortuous performance.
Sung to me from the dark side of midnight.
4/1/11 (c) Peggy Montgomery
Apr 1, 2011
Apr 1, 2011 at 5:17 AM UTC
you're like a warm sweater straight out of the dryer
you're like a Disney movie on a bad day
you're like the greatest dream of all time without
the disappointment of it not being real when i wake up
you're like the sound of applause after a terrifying performance
you're like a warm bath for an aching body
you're like looking at the sun and the moon in the same sky
you're like a million double takes
you're like the feeling of jumping through giant puddles in polka dot rain-boots
you're like the gold at the end of the rainbow
you're like a mermaid that glistens under water
you're like the first song i ever wrote
you're like puppy-kisses and newly hatched birds and scented candles and poetry
you're like holding a cup of hot chocolate while
wrapped in a blanket sitting by a hand made fire
you're the feeling of watching the first snowfall of the season
you're the feeling of getting 100% on a test without studying
you're like a quote by L.M. Montgomery
you're the feeling of watching a Mississippi thunderstorm
you're the feeling of watching the fireworks at Disney World for the first time
you're the feeling of aching abs after excessive laughter
you are my kindred spirit
may we never grow up.
Apr 22, 2013
Apr 22, 2013 at 12:16 AM UTC
Ye banks and braes and streams around
The castle o’ Montgomery,
Green be your woods, and fair your flowers,
Your waters never drumlie!
There simmer first unfauld her robes,
And there the langest tarry;
For there I took the last fareweel
O’ my sweet Highland Mary.
How sweetly bloomed the gay green birk,
How rich the hawthorn’s blossom,
As underneath their fragrant shade
I clasped her to my *****
The golden hours on angel wings
Flew o’er me and my dearie;
For dear to me as light and life
Was my sweet Highland Mary.
Wi’ mony a vow and locked embrace
Our parting was fu’ tender;
And, pledging aft to meet again,
We tore oursels asunder;
But, O, fell Death’s untimely frost,
That nipt my flower sae early!
Now green’s the sod, and cauld’s the clay,
That wraps my Highland Mary!
O pale, pale now, those rosy lips
I aft hae kissed sae fondly;
And closed for aye the sparkling glance
That dwelt on me sae kindly;
And mouldering now in silent dust
That heart that lo’ed me dearly!
But still within my bosom’s core
Shall live my Highland Mary.
2.4k
What are the odds of finding someone -
who can finish your sentences -
who will let you cut in line -
who knows not to just lend a hand, or an ear when you need them to give you their spine -
who will keep every secret, save every letter, tell you how you really look
who will remember every single one of your birthdays -
without checking Facebook?
What are the odds of finding someone who knows your poetry by heart ?
I will always see you for the alley-oop.
I will always save you a seat.
I will always pick you to be my partner even though you are terrible at handball.
When the fire takes all you have, my home will be your home.
When you are old and can no longer remember my face, I will meet you for the first time again and again.
When they make fun of your accent, I will take you swimming because we all sound the same underwater.
When Ellis Island tries to erase your past, I will call you by your real name.
When they call your number for the draft, I will enlist to fight beside you.
And I will march with you from Selma to Montgomery and back as many times as it takes.
We will stand together against the horses and the dogs -
They could tell you how rare this is.
But they could tell you how rare this always is.
The chances are slim.
The cards are always stacked against you, the odds are always low.
But I have seen the best of you, and the worst of you, and I choose both.
I want to share every single one of your sunshines and save some for later.
I will tuck them into my pockets so I can give them back to you when the rains fall hard.
Love-
I want to be the mirror that reminds you to love yourself.
I want to be air in your lungs that reminds you to breathe easy.
When the walls come down -
when the thunder rumbles -
when nobody else is home, hold my hand -
and I promise -
I won't let go.
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 2:38 AM UTC
Well I used to pick you up after work and we would go drink beer and eat pita bread sandwiches while we played pool all night long until closing time .
You had a Martin Guitar and a voice to sing that made the angelics cry . You were friends of Maggie's fame , the Angel from Montgomery . Together the two of you would sing and stun the audience . The people couldn't believe it .
You were my Girl Friday next to Sunday's release . You were good enough on weekends but the rest of the week not .
So sing The Song Of The Turtles as Blind Joe Death dances away . I found out the hard way it takes seven days to make a week .
Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 9:14 PM UTC
Slashers Defined
In response to my piece, Slashers, it was requested that maybe I could
reveal at least which band or other info these great guitar players performed for to gain their claim to fame. I don't want to spend too much
time on this defintion, but will give what info I think is pertinent. If you do not know some of the names I have presented to you, and you are a blues,
rock, jazz, fusion guitar fan, I suggest you take the time to listen to some of their work. I have included some of my favorite incredible fusion players that do not have a super star following, but are renowned in their group of fans, probably mostly musicians to some degree.
If you are a frustrated guitar player like I am, do not listen to the likes of Holdsworth, Johnson, Gambale, or Morse unless you love being tortured.
Anyway on with the show.
Eric Clapton – Yardbirds, Cream, Blind Faith, Derek and the Dominos.
Jimmy Page – Yardbirds, Led Zeppe, The Honeydrippers, The Firm
Jimi Hendrix – not only what is, but, what could have been
Alan Holdsworth – Solo jazz fusion player – hot
Steve Howe – Yes, Asia - Progressive rock, jazz –
Bill Nelson – BeBop Deluxe, Solo
Terry Kath – Chicago (25 or 6 to 4) – another sad early departure
Ted Nugent – Amboy Dukes, **** Yankees – The madman
Jim Krueger – Dave Mason Band – solo progressive rock
Eddy Van Halen – Van Halen
Ritchie Blackmore – Deep Purple, Rainbow
Jerry Doucette – Doucette (Mama let him play)
Eric Johnson – Solo – New Age, jazz
Frank Gambale – Australian- Jazz, fusion, rock
Goerge Benson – Jazz
Larry Carlton – Jazz, new age rock
Marc Farner - Grand Funk Railroad
Peter Frampton – Humble Pie, solo
Joe Satriani - New age – solo
Johnny A. - jazz, new age – solo
Danny Gatton – jazz, rockabilly – solo
Chet Atkins – jazz, country
John Mayer – Pop, blues – solo
Neal Schon – Journey
Steve Lukather – Toto
Masyoshi Takanaka – New age, jazz – Japanese solo
Lee Ritnour – Jazz, new age – solo
Leslie West - Mountain, West Bruce & Laing
Monty Montgomery – jazz, blues (accoustic you have never heard)
Wes Montgomery – jazz 40's – 50's
Phil Keaggy – New age Christian
Robin Trower – Procul Harem
Brian May – Queen
Rick Derringer – Montrose, Edgar Winter Group, Steely Dan
Robin Ford – John Mayall, Chick Corea, solo jazz, fusion, blues
Carlos Santana – Santana
Ronnie Montrose – Montrose
Steve Morse – Dixie Dregs, Kansas, solo jazz, fusion
Trevor Rabin – Yes, solo new age
Gomer LePoet...
Jun 10, 2010
Jun 10, 2010 at 1:19 PM UTC
Cam ye o'er frae France? Cam ye down by London?
Saw ye Geordie Whelps and his bonny woman?
Were ye at the place called the Kittle Housie?
Saw ye Geordie's grace riding on a goosie?
Geordie, he's a man there is little doubt
He does all he can, who would do without?
Down there came a blade linkin' like a lordie;
He would drive a trade at the loom o' Geordie.
Though the plaid were bad, blythly did we niffer;
Gin we get a wab, it makes little differ.
We have tint our plaid, bonnet, belt and swordie,
Halls and mailings braid—but we have our Geordie!
Jocky's gane to France and Montgomery's lady;
There they'll learn to dance: Madam, are ye ready?
They'll be back belive, belted, brisk and lordly;
Brawly may they thrive to dance a jig wi' Geordie!
Hey for Sandy Don! Hey for Cockolorum!
Hey for Bobbing John and his Highland Quorum!
Many a sword and lance swings a Highland hurdie;
How they'll skip and dance o'er the *** o' Geordie!
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 5:35 PM UTC
As a young man,
I was always obsessed
By melancholy.
I saw deep sadness,
The quality
That so tormented my heroes,
Such as Arthur Rimbaud,
And Montgomery Clift,
As glamorous and romantic,
But it’s not…
It’s not remotely romantic,
When you yourself are adrift,
And weighed down,
By a multitude of woes.
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 3:59 AM UTC
I'm from the land of candy, which is as rare as gold.
I'm from the land where fruits are our desserts and rice is a must.
I'm from the land where cheese is a treat and milk is banned.
I'm from the land where determination is my Parliament Building,
The Library is my City Hall,
Technology is my Plaza,
And Music is my Town Square.
I'm from the land where Math is our School,
Lucy Maud Montgomery is our teacher,
And Creativity are our Artists.
I'm from the land of pine-smelling air and strokes of sunburn.
Where laughter is heard at every corner.
I'm from the land of a Dominating Dad and a Mature Mom.
I'm from the land of a Busy Brother whom is somewhat caring.
I'm from the land which changes constantly,
Hot and Cold,
And is always forgetful.
I'm from the land where Pheonix Wright is our King and Meg Cabot is our Princess.
I'm from the land where friends are our special jewels,
And family is priceless.
I'm from the land where my valuables are my memories
And I'm still collecting them.
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 1:29 AM UTC
Cassie walked up the stairs and into her new room, her new roomate sitting on the bed and writing in her journal. her long black hair in a side braid, wearing a purple flannel jacket and ripped jeans. "guess who i just met? you're not gonna believe it." cassie said, almost singing. "who?" Emily rolled her eyes. "madison montgomery, she gave me her autography and everything." cassie joyfuly explained. "madison montgomery? isn't she like some grade d lifetime movie actress or something? what is she doing here?" Emily shook her head and rolled her eyes as she doodled a picture on the notepad. "that cuts me deeply that you would say that about madison, she's my friend you know." Cassie touched her cheast, as if she had been cut by this very deeply. "okay?" Emily shook her head "she is a witch like us and is most certainly NOT a grade d actress." cassie explained. "i really like it here, you know? i never really had friends at my old highschool.. everyone thought i was weird or annoying." Cassie sighed. "did they?" emily replied sarcasticly. "well yea, thats why i had to get rid of all of them. " cassie sighed once again, shaking her head and staring into space. " sometimes i lay awake and i can still hear them." Emilys eyes and mouth widened as she looked up from her notebook very slowly. "what do you mean, you got rid of them?" Emily asked. "ohhh nevermind..! it's a really long story and i come out looking pretty bad in it" Cassie giggled, making emilys stomache turn. her eyes still wide and filled with fear.
Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 10:47 PM UTC
Thinking back to Thomas creek and sneaking a peak at the freaky little tweaker
in blown out sneakers a toothless mistress second guessing ******
thrift dressed house guest ******* up my speakers blown out woofer
wolfing down dinner mad slurping curry a beginner at twister
her sister, disaster, got caught ******* the Doberman.. unable to find sobriety
got gang ***** at the sorority doing an impression of Brad Dougherty
shoes to tall falling all wobbly knees knocking hostilely like a rasta in Montgomery
racially outcast Big Boi with a skin tare lash with passion unfashionable bastions
with rashes wear red sashes like Communist fascists I‘m a pacifist with a speeding fist
ready to dis any resistor to this transistor radio I eat filet-minion with boxers on
my mind be gone, like, no one’s home and this body roams all alone
with a ***** I’m a stoner, a postponer, ***** donor, out on loan
bought and paid for, caught with a lawnmower, impersonating a horn blower
like I was Gillespie at the Filmore, or Apollo theatre as a greater Walmart style
wearing a wife beater, not a reader, sort of a ******* not like Kim, more like
a mosquit-er drinking blood like it’s from a hummingbird feeder.
May 9, 2016
May 9, 2016 at 6:03 PM UTC
It was a normal two scorpion and one rattlesnake day at 112° in Wichita Falls , Texas .
Texas . . . they made Hell out of the good parts of Texas and the rest of the state just went there . Fortunately my parents only went there so my little sister could be born there . We left the great state of Texas and moved to the incestuous state of Alabama .
Where the impossible will always remain the same . And the possible will be banned , outlawed , and perpetuated behind countless barns , toolsheds , and the outhouse known as Montgomery , the State Capitol . Called the Heart of Dixie (it should be called ******* of Dixie and thank God for Mississippi , for they have wrest that title away from us . But we gave it a-hell-a-va-fight .)
We are a multicolored society . We have white (the pressence of all color) and black (the absence of all color). Which is strange now because the black people are called colored and the white people are called all kinds of blacked out names (usually on court documents).
Alabama is proud of it's educational system . We measure one's intelligence by how soon they leave the state for better opportunities . In Alabama an educated person is a four letter word , like *** hole , or worse . Oops !
Let me see now . . . one , two , three , four . . . got to tale off my shoe . . . five , six , seven . . . wait a minute . . . *** hole ? . . . is that one or two words .
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 7:08 AM UTC
The Italians dreamed of glory
Italian tacticians made many mistakes
The british surprised them on Dec. 9
British armor raced along the Libyan coast
Coastal towns had been turned into fortresses
They proved to be no match for the
Highly mobile British forces
One after another the towns fell to the British
The Italian army was trapped
By 1941 the British occupied the eastern half of Libya
Feb 12, 1941
Rommel took control of the Africa Corps
2 armored divisions
8000 men and 135 tanks
Plus the light infantry division
On April 1, the Germans
Mark III and Mark IV tanks
Outranged the British
The British were pushed back into Egypt
However one division remained in Tobruk
The infamous and stubborn rats of Tobruk
Tobruk held on at first
Barely enough food and water to stay alive
Tobruk was needed by the Germans
For their supply chain
Rommel said he would finish Tobruk for good
It fell on June 1 1942
Montgomery took control at El Alamein
Lend lease supplies came in
Axis shipping was badly damaged
By Allied air strikes
Oct 23, 1942
The British forces moved to the assembly areas
The First Battle of El Alamein began
The British halted the Axis forces from
Advancing into Egypt
Oct. 24, 1942
A vast troop convoy
Set sail from American ports
The next day, two convoys left Britain
El Alamein was the first great offensive
It coincided with the Battle of Stalingrad
And the Battle of Guadalcanal
The narrator said,
"El Alamein had been the end of the beginning.
For the Axis powers
It was now the beginning of the end."
Churchill said,
"It may almost be said, 'Before Alamein we never had a victory.
After Alemein we never had a defeat.'
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 12:23 PM UTC
The punctual , eleven forty southbound train whistle's through our hometown of Palmetto ! Please tell the good folks of Montgomery , Mobile and New Orleans that I said hello !
Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 11:54 AM UTC
A Simple Walkway
By this device just an old ordinary taken for granted side walk there is no place it doesn’t lead
Hops scotch any one key skates on your shoes how they let you zoom oh the prints left there
A bike for Christmas feel daddy’s strong hands hear his feet running to keep up ever feel so freed
Remember when you were there playing mother walked by her perfume caused womanly fantasies
Up town on Saturday shopping day take the sidewalk get a haircut one two Jims the other to Dressings
Montgomery wards that great wide white stair way sports one floor clothes on the other
Get dolls toy guns all kind of assorted toys at Ben Franklin if not there find Woolworth’s full blessings
Whatever, hurry you know the Roseland will be starting the afternoon matinee action packed thrills
Live out the movies Carl Wessel Western Auto arrows fifty cents Coast to Coast BB guns
Can’t afford a bow take a mop stick and cut an inner tube into a strip nail on both ends watch her fly
If you’re not allowed to have even an air rifle use more inner tube a forked stick wa la slingshot what fun
Grocery shopping great on second St Piggly Wiggly or Wempen’s on the alley up from Bryson’s garage
Need shoes Summer’s store or Duez get a pair of Buster Browns this follow the side walk your welcome
If you just need a repair Ray does fine work Pen well’s store has all the dresses guaranteed no guessing
Hustle and bustle going on all over town activity nonstop great foot traffic go to town the past will come
You will stir up endless memories in this new time that could use those sweet happy times at the five
and Dime
Jan 8, 2012
Jan 8, 2012 at 11:38 PM UTC
A mother’s hands cool fevered brows,
Warm little hands when cold winds blow.
A mother’s hands wipe away tears of pain,
And applaud the actions that joy brings.
A mother’s heart grows with each child,
Making room for each new life.
A mother’s heart knows soaring heights,
As well as the most anguished pains of night.
A mother’s smile can show such pride,
Or hide the disappoint from her child.
A mother’s smile is the warmest around.
To bask in one is worth heavens crown.
A mother’s love is a special thing,
Offering acceptance, comfort and peace.
A mother’s love cannot be earned,
Tis’ a love that blooms before a child’s birth.
And when a mother holds her newborn babe,
The love she feels explodes in her heart.
Each mother makes this very same vow.
To protect and love forever whether near or apart.
Happy Mother’s Day to all the Mother’s around the world.
copyright Peggy Montgomery 4/26/11
Apr 26, 2011
Apr 26, 2011 at 2:47 AM UTC
My hero, my heart, in your arms I sigh,
To listen to you breathe, your pure passions heat,
In creamy dreams of sweetness long gone by,
And taste your precious kisses; wild wonder sweet.
To open mine eyes in moons’ silver light
And see your face next to mine in our bed;
I would shower you with love in deep night.
Beautiful warrior; who chose me to wed.
But alas, I lie alone and in tears,
Dreaming of you in my arms through night dark.
For a warrior goes to fight without fear,
Leaving his love pining for his sweet spark.
I will wait forever, in this, my fate.
For you, my hero, my lover, my mate.
copyright 4/25/2011 Peggy Montgomery
Apr 26, 2011
Apr 26, 2011 at 2:49 AM UTC
The air was chill and darkness fell as bells rang and the rabble gathered.
A British sentry had struck a lad; some said his jaw was shattered.
Some four hundred Bostonians were milling about his station.
Eight Redcoats, each with rifle cocked, tried to defuse the situation.
The crowd was in an ugly mood; they would not let this slide.
The soldiers were pelted with rocks and snow, but as yet no one had died.
Private Montgomery was knocked down And muttered **** you, Fire.”
He discharged his weapon into the ground, and that shot provoked their ire.
Captain Preston never issued the command, but a ragged volley was fired.
Eleven colonists were hit, three of them expired.
The crowd in panic then dispersed, and the troop of men retired.
A black man, Crispus Atticus, was among those who had died.
The mood was tense in Boston and those troops were charged and tried.
John Adams won acquittal, he was brilliant in defense.
But the crowd still felt injustice, and there's been no peace since.
Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 9:00 AM UTC