James H. Smith


Whom am I, a muse
Ancient Muse, story teller of the battle ruse
My time of watching, how long do you say
But listen, I’ll relate forever is but a day
I come to remind you my Warrior friend
Time and time, you and I have watched the battles end
Back to back we have stood, throwing off arrow and sword steel
A Muse, an ancient story teller, my words, my shield
We watched William, laughing swinging the sword claymore
We cried, we held close William, blood still warm, to go home never more
A white rose she gave to you, as you laughing rode away
Your blood turned the white rose red, where you will forever lay
Walk away Warrior, walk away just this time, can there never be a yield
What matter I, an ancient Muse, my words are my shield
Warrior many times you fight for the God you see
Pagan, Islamic and Christian next time what will you be
Calling your God as to battle rush, protect me you call his name
The enemy cries a different name no matter, the God is one and the same
Warrior, in jungle mud and desert sands, your blood nourished the land
I an ancient Muse, a warrior’s record for you I keep as best I can
Warrior, what glory is found laying rotting dead in the mud and the sun
Better glory, a story for your Granddaughter, her laugh, Grandpa tell another one
I watch your cities and countries come and go and crumble to dust
I an ancient Muse shall record all your battle ruse, in that you may trust

IWVPA Double Tap Award for War Poetry: January 19, 2008
Awarded: January 19, 2008