John Philips 'SPLENDID SHILLING'*(=5p/cents piece)
•
• one •
• shilling •
• •
• 1950 •
•
All for a Shilling a Day
by Bob Moore © 2019
Back in 1810 when prison seemed my lot
The judge said “join the army, or in the cells you rot”
So I took the Kings Shilling, and enlisted for the pay
I became a 16th Lancer, for just a shilling a day
For just a shilling a day my lad
a place to sleep, and food not bad
muck out stables, and ride a horse
use a sword, and lance of course
Then came the time to earn our pay
that princely sum of a shilling a day
Napoleon thought he was the best
so we would put him to the test
The Scarlet Lancers, was our nickname
in charge or with sword, we had made our fame
now he had disturbed us, we would make him pay
and all of this, for a shilling a day
Now we are at, a place called Waterloo
with Vandeleur’s Brigade, to do what we do
this could be the final battle they say
I am sure we can win it, for a shilling a day
I came upon a wishing well
And a shilling there I cast,
Nothing happened, I wished I hadn't,
For that shilling was my last.
''Take The Kings Shilling''
Volunteers brisk march to a drumming refrain,
Men to war some inches to gain.
To ''Not forget''; we now chose to review,
Why did they go? Three feathers! from whom?
Couldn't see the problems! didn't have a clue.
Changing their place from a mundane to a new?
We can’t feel or smell what was revealed,
Rats gnawing their muddied meat meal.
Duck boards washed by insistent rains, soak,
A haze of cordite laced with decay, choke,
Dry socks, no cure for feet rotting in soggy clay.
We shed the tears they dared not display.
Man vibrates in fear at what they hear.
Oh! to watch the grass blades grow,
to hear the chirp, to see the crow.
Don't pick the life or shoot what fly's
They too have created lives.
What do those monuments realistically say?
Outstretched hands above the waves
Condemed to deep the cannons slaves
Before the mast they took their place
And take the cat at drumbeats pace
The Kings shilling and a tot of rum
Cannons hauled to the roll of drum
Sawdust strewn the blood to soak
Sweating palms but hearts of oak
A head of sail, battle flags fly
Such gallant men will fear defy
Ball and shot know not age
Only battle named on histories page
Splintered timbers, blooded deck
The surgeons knife hath no respect
Many a man cheated Netunes door
Many a man shall cheat no mre
A plank, a flag, a final prayer
Young and old to sea they stare
Wind it carries the Sirens song
Canvassed souls, the deep belong
Men of duty, born of salt
The Oceans pull cannot halt
That these brave men rule the waves
That we be free and not as slaves
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.