Colin F. Jones


I shall write of thee oh wondrous men,
Who fought in the fields of the wider land,
Because it’s the blood of thee that inks my pen,
Tis no payment I’ll receive though I write so grand.
For what type of man could this man be,
Who would reap reward from the warriors pain,
Tis not a man that I could be,
Tis far greater I honour the soldiers name.
Yeah though ‘tis duty all to do,
To scribe the warriors rumpled track,
Tis all I write that I know is true,
For I rode those cannons there and back.
Yet each and every one that died
Will know this poet never lied.