Terry Ireland Poet Rhyme

Lawrence a Finale

Lawrence of Neasden,
Man of action in the past,
Reflected with dismay
How life had moved so fast.
So many years gone now
Since they’d gone to war
And Lawrence no longer
Rode his camel anymore.

It’s ashes rested in an urn
On the mantle shelf
Alongside its photo and
Those of Lawrence himself,
All dressed in style 
In their combat gear
With others of the Corps
All paraded in the rear.

Sometimes it brought
Many tears to his eye
When he recalled
Their last fond goodbye
Before they’d all dispersed 
Their duties well done
Secure in the knowledge of
A fine victory won. 

There’s an empty space now
There in Lawrence’s carport
Where in the state of emergency
All the troops would report.
He can hear the harness jingle,
Hears those throaty roars,
Where in his mind Lawrence 
Rides his camel once more.

Through the streets of Neasden. 
If the breeze is just right,
Sometimes there’s a little jingle
In the stillness of the night 
Is it the shade of Lawrence
Loyal to the very end
One last phantom patrol
Atop his faithful camel friend.

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