Colin F. Jones


~ 1 ~

Where he who has the strength to do one ill,
And is thus schooled with a dangerous skill,
And yet refrains from what he most might do,
That is to harm folk badly like me and you.
Then he who can as well with gentle touch,
Make a friend that he can love so much,
That his hard eyes do weep at her sad loss,
For he doth know what true love doth cost.
Is one of special note in God’s true eye,
And in the hearts of men who cannot cry,
Who know the savage nature of the brave,
Who lose their lives that somehow they might save,
What they themselves will never live to know,
Peace on Earth, and freedom without a foe.

~ 2 ~

They are true soldiers, men such as these,
Who are as steadfast as the ancient trees,
Yet crueller than the average hardened man,
Who do much more than the average can
For though they sit not gentlemen in church,
For just and right till death they ever search,
Claimed by the gun reducing freedom’s wars,
By violent progress clipping evil claws.
For all that’s worth retaining in our lives,
Were by such men carved out with bloody knives,
For violent men are the guardians of the peace,
That all our hopes and happy times increase,
For all those things our soldiers can’t defend,
Are monuments that signify the end.