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Passions in Poetry

Samuel's Song

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Marge Tindal
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Florida's Foreverly Shores


0 posted 11-28-1999 10:15 PM       View Profile for Marge Tindal   Email Marge Tindal   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to Submit your Poem to Passions   Click to visit Marge Tindal's Home Page   View IP for Marge Tindal

Samuel's Song
~Marge Tindal~ 1999

Cold the winter wind did blow.
Colder still the night.
Wrapped in blankets oh, so thin ...
giving bare warmth to their flight.

Samuel's father died in the stockade
where the Cherokee were herded like cattle.
It wasn't Samuel's fight ...
it wasn't even his battle.

A mother wraps her nine year old,
and holds him to her soul.
She imparted the warmth of her body ...
but by morning her body was cold.

He was too young to understand,
when taken from her arms.
"Mother, mother", he cries,
He does not understand the harm.

Buried in a shallow grave
along the trail they were forced to walk.
He left the place where they had laid,
and no one wondered why he didn't talk.

Taken were his father and mother
in the cruel march to the west ...
he would recall the story later,
as only he could do best.

Is it no wonder
the tears still flow today?
What was taken from Samuel Cloud
can't be given back or forgotten.

I know, I know ...
you were not there.
The events were not of your making.
But tell me please if you can ...
what was gained by the taking?

Land ... land,
that's what it was about.
It makes me so darned angry.
It makes me want to shout.

But to shout would do no good,
I could holler not once, but twice.
It wouldn't do Samuel Cloud any good ...
he buried his mother and father ...
I would guess he paid the price.

The land was taken
and should be given back ...
it's as simple as that.
The ancestors of Samuel Cloud
have a right to the land
that cost them much more than
the price of an acre.

Many moons passed
and he did not forget
with the passing of the moons ...
he returns in his memory and marks the place
and gives this promise to her.

I will tell the story of your passing,
of the way you held me tight.
I will tell so others know
how you left that cold, cold night.

The story will be handed down,
for generations to come.
Samuel Cloud gave his father and mother,
to the spirit of the setting sun.
<~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~>

------------------
~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~
noles1@totcon.com
© Copyright 1999 Marge Tindal - All Rights Reserved
Elizabeth
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1 posted 11-28-1999 10:20 PM       View Profile for Elizabeth   Email Elizabeth   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Elizabeth's Home Page   View IP for Elizabeth

I couldn't ever answer the questions people will have about something so senseless as this, or give reparation for the prices paid, although I wish I could. All we can do, I guess, is remember the past so as not to repeat it. Your poem was touching, Marge, and you told it well. Very sad.
Marge Tindal
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Florida's Foreverly Shores


2 posted 11-28-1999 10:45 PM       View Profile for Marge Tindal   Email Marge Tindal   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Marge Tindal's Home Page   View IP for Marge Tindal

Roses Thorns - Welcome to Passions. Thank you for the comments.
Being of Cherokee Indian heritage, this message of a piece of history burns in my mind.
Many do not even know the past ... so the spirits bring the stories to me and I share them in poetic frame to enlighten others.
Peace and love ~Marge~

------------------
~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~
noles1@totcon.com
Denise
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3 posted 11-29-1999 07:58 PM       View Profile for Denise   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Denise

Excellent, Marge. We can't fully realize the depth of suffering caused so senselessly for such a base reason as greed. Sad beyond our comprehension.

------------------
Denise

Elizabeth
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4 posted 11-29-1999 08:02 PM       View Profile for Elizabeth   Email Elizabeth   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Elizabeth's Home Page   View IP for Elizabeth

I applaud, Marge. You told this tale well.

------------------
Nail to the mast her holy flag,
Set every threadbare sail-
And give her to the god of storms,
The lightning and the gale!
-Oliver Wendell Holmes
Severn
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since 07-17-99
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5 posted 11-29-1999 08:08 PM       View Profile for Severn   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Severn

Wow, my friend, wow.
This is fantastic. An epic of a poem and the last line just gave me chills. Give yourself several well deserved pats on the back. As to the topic - the injustices done to many peoples over land are so numerous it hurts to think about it.
K
Marge Tindal
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Florida's Foreverly Shores


6 posted 11-29-1999 08:21 PM       View Profile for Marge Tindal   Email Marge Tindal   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Marge Tindal's Home Page   View IP for Marge Tindal

Denise - You touch me with your comments.
It should be beyond our comprehension ...
sadly it is not so for the ancestors of the American Indians who perished on the Trail of Tears. As much as we detest it ... we comprehend it, sadly.
I'm so glad you read this one.

Elizabeth - Thank you, my friend.
The story of Samuel Cloud is a true Cherokee tale. His great grandson maintains the vigil of seeing that Samuel Cloud's name is spoken with honor.

Severn - I share with you the hurt.
Believe me, I share the pain.
Thank you, my friend.

------------------
~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~
noles1@totcon.com
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