Away From Home
The rain swept across the name
Of 1st AIF and a digger’s fame
Who crossed the seas to our acclaim
Such an adventure to be had he proclaimed
But there was no glory to be found
In the the trenches and the guns pounding sound
He had waited for the officers call
And mounted the trench and charge one for all
But he was cut by a bullet and fell down
Wounded in the stomach without a sound
The stretcher bearers found him in a shell hole
Clinging to life pain now his all
They shipped him by boat to Old England
To a London hospital with no brass band
The telegram said he was wounded bad
His mother read it and cried so sad
And he died one night a nurse by his bed
Away from the Southern Land where tears were shed
So here he lies away from his home
Under a plain white soldier’s headstone.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Copyright © Paul Warren | Year Posted 2021
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