Battle of King's Mountain

By Brandon McNamara, 1st year.

Object No. 67 Conestoga wagon, eighteenth century
Ulster American Folk Park, 2 Mellon Road, Castletown, Omagh, Co Tyrone.

We lived in a town which was once peaceful,

Full of children’s laughter

And full of people.

 

Our town was Kings Mountain

Of North Carolina

As peaceful as a steady flowing fountain.

 

When one day we heard screams of death in the distance,

Shouts for help

And calls for assistance.

 

Then new sounds we heard

Getting closer and closer

That’s when we all began to get scared.

 

The new sounds were gun shots,

Firing now not so far away

So we packed our blankets, food and pots.

 

We grabbed all our bagging,

Gathered our kids

And loaded them all onto our Conestoga wagon

 

We secured our horses to the front

Hopped on board

And thankfully for riding it was a good month

 

I turned around for a split second

And our village was on fire

Just like I reckoned.

 

Through the forest we rode,

Through the trees

When suddenly our horses slowed.

 

There lay a village we couldn’t refuse,

Bright and Peaceful

Where we would seek refuge.

 

 

 

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