Across The Field Poem by Richard Netherland Cook

Across the field ten thousand poured,
And the battle raged and the cannon's roared;
With the sounding charge of the bugle's blare
The smell of death blew through the air.

The battle raged in a smoky shield
That covered all the battlefield
Where clashing blade and musket fire
Faced the foe in its terrible ire.

The brave with courage tried and true
Fell torn and crushed and shattered through
Young and old there, fought and died,
And fathers and brothers lay side by side.

The lines were broken by days end
By the will of men who refused to bend,
And across the field where the poppies grew
The battle was won by a tattered few.

Worn from battle, a foe defeated
Turned and fled and fast retreated,
And the victors bowed with solemn head,
And gathered their wounded and the dead.

For a cause they thought was just
Many lay dead in blood stained dust;
While far away did sad hearts yearn
For a loved one's safe return.