Soldier's Return
Ahh Jamie lad where hast tha bin?
not heathered shire, so searched within,
nor mountain river's gilded beck, but
inside burnt out blackened wreck
Brings the coffin from the plane,
touches tarmac black again; coming
home with no hello, attends the
soldier’s funeral show
Cuts my heart in two to see, bonny
lads bright bonnet free, sits on top
of panelled wood, resting still as
new formed bud
Now your’e here lad home with me,
resting down by blossomed tree,
I hear the nightjar’s plaintiff plea,
and tip my hat to soldiers free
Copyright © Peter Lewis Holmes | Year Posted 2015
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