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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required 'The Maid That Waits For Me' By Joe Canning. (c) copyright 2017.. All rights reserved --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Oh tonight the moon is looking down, As my comrades wait with me. As I write this letter to the love That shares my hopes and dreams. There's a silence here except for prayer In our waiting for the dawn. God help us when the whistle blows It might be our last morn. There's a madness in what we must do When the early birds make song, As we charge across the open ground; To kill some mother's son. I'm sure his thoughts are just like mine On the far side of the field, I pray to God that I'll see again The maid that waits for me. I pray she gets this letter That I write with trembling hand. For with it goes with my undying love To my flower in sweet Strabane. I trust she's praying for me now As with God I make my peace As I thank our brave young Padre Holy water hits my face., I cannot sleep, for I'm afraid and I don't want to die. and somewhere down the trench a piece I hear a young man cry. He's asking for his mother As we greet the morning glow, Our Captain say's "get ready lads, it's almost time to go." Once more I think of Eileen and our walks along the Foyle, I see her face before me And the vision brings me joy. I cross myself and bid farewell As I cross this Flanders field, In the fervent hope I will return To the maid that waits for me.
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