Saddling Up Anyway

His hands shook as he sat On the side of the muddy shell ridden road He had the makings of a cigarette down pat But the shaking meant no smoke to ease his load So he gave up on it then and stood tall As he placed his Lewis gun on his shoulder And walked towards the sound of the guns and the shells fall With his mates marching on forever bolder You see courage is being scared to death But in saddling up any way To face the worst in the Great War’s breath As sometimes bravery is in just being able to stay. © Paul Warren Poetry