ODE TO JAMES HEYWARD

On the event of his untimely demise
in the fall of 1805
near Charleston, South Carolina

Oh James Heyward, where have you gone
Pray tell us... where do you reside?
Are you resting in the library's wing backed chair
Or buried in the cemetery outside?

An early dawn deer hunting party
Had supposedly taken you away
But, your sister Maria saw you asleep at eight
When her footsteps through the library strayed

Returning horses hooves drummed a death knell
Bearing sad news of your demise
Oh, James Heyward where have you gone?
You were right before Maria's eyes!

Your lifeless form draped across the horse
Told of a hunter's worst nightmare
But, still a disbelieving sister protested
"I saw him asleep right there!"

"Muddy boots on his feet, field jacket on his back
Still wearing a green felt cap on his head
Chin on chest, fast asleep before the fire
Now, you tell me my brother is dead!"

"Dear sister, are you certain of the time?"
Her other grieving brother inquired.
"For 'twas at eight this morning
that the accidental gunshot was fired!"

"He swung with the butt of his gun
In defense of a charging wild boar.
His frightened steed reared, the gun discharged
Our beloved brother was no more!"

So tell us James Heyward, if you can
Oh, where have you truly gone?
Are you now with the angels in heaven
Or is your spirit still in the library at home?

Rosalene H. Abrams
January 30, 2000

I would love to hear from you. Please, either sign the guestbook or drop a line in my email. Use "Heyward" in the subject line.