Once on a moonlit night, I see.
A soldier stands by the old oak tree.
The yellow ribbon old and frayed
Hanging, tied forlorn. Bright yellow turning Grey
His uniform, bloodstained, and torn.
Shows this young soldiers, young, strong form.
Through my tear filled eyes, I see
The love that shines from him, to me.
And in the cool and silent night, I hear his words
As they take flight.
“I thought that I had gone away.
I did not think that I would lie in that desert.
Hot and dry, beneath the, blue And Foreign sky.
They cannot bring me home” he said.
My bodies gone and I am dead. Help me mum.
To find my way, for I am lost and want to stay”.
I look up to the starlit sky and wonder, “Oh Lord why
My baby lost, war torn, forlorn, dear Lord, be kind
And take him home. He has family there with you.
And this is what he needs to do, we will not forget
Our son, death came to him far too young.”
My darling boy, he looked at me and in his eyes I could see.
“Thank you mum, now I can go, take down the ribbon it is so old.
Replace it with a wreath of love, forget- me- nots, in shades of blue.
Before I go I have to say, thank you Mum
For all you did, when I was young and just a kid”
No comments:
Post a Comment