Colin F. Jones


~ 1 ~

It is the nature of the world in which we live,
To fight for what we have or for it die,
We cannot keep that which we cannot give
Nor hide behind a truth that is a lie
What we love in strength we must defend
We must stand up and sacrifice our lives
That all we are is passed on to a friend
Who for the same strong dreams will yet survive
A soldier is a person trained to kill
Who stands between sweet heaven and pure Hell
Who gives his life with an urgent will,
To save the souls of those who can’t repel,
The evil of those nations proud of war,
Who all our fine traditions yet deplore

~ 2 ~

She stands in black beside a pale white cross,
That marks the place where a soldier lies
And in her heart she cries with bitter loss
As another on a far off battle field dies
Tis just a quiet moment of regret,
For none on earth can bring her husband back
And none can share the anguish in her heart
Thus here alone she stands all dressed in black
The wind across the lines of crosses blows
To caress the vale that hides her weeping eyes,
And on her cheek a tear with love bestows
What all the fear and dread in her denies,
A lasting image of her lifelong mate,
With whom she yet will keep a future date

~ 3 ~

Veteran soldiers are family men and more,
Who worship God and salute their nations flag
They work the farms and own the corner stores
And fill a role as they once filled a mag
Yet some came home to find their dreams were lost
The folk they fought for condemning their reprieve
Their treasonable contempt adding to the cost
Of many soldiers who were so aggrieved,
For some had died and some were maimed and ill
They’d lived a lifetime through a single year
Had shared the moments seen their comrades kill
And crouched in trenches overcome with fear.
Tis the desire of power in the hearts of men,
That ensures the fact that war will come again

~ 4 ~

I can almost hear the rising of their souls,
From the wasted field where they have lost their lives
Their bodies rot among the holes and folds
And flies like bee’s use them for their hives
Among the craters packs and hats are scattered
Broken rifles fragments every where
Among the trees they lie there smashed and battered
And we who killed them pretend we do not care
We knew not one of those brave soldiers dying
Beneath the rain of shells we poured on them
We knew not of the reason for their trying
But they were worthy foe those gallant men
Yes they were brave young soldiers those we fought
Who did their duty as they had been taught

~ 5 ~

Blood stains our palms and death distorts our brains
The echoes of the vanquished claim our ears,
The torment of it surging through our veins
And lingering in our staring eyes for years
Some still see Vietnam rivers running red,
Some mourn the wasted bodies of their friends
Some see no living thing for all is dead
And some still try to make sincere amends
Time takes away the uniform he wore,
That made him what he didn’t want to be
But looking back upon that distant shore,
He knows his efforts kept his nation free
So now the veteran none ever will forget
Withers with the pain of his regret.