Poetry

Dreaming at 4:30

I feel your kiss still,
Lingering on my lips,
As though they were touched by a ghost.
Faint reminder
Of the time we have spent
So recently.
It seems to me a dream,
This physical reminiscence,
Like sweet, morphemic torture
Which agonisingly disappears
Upon waking.
Is there something other than time
Which will return your lips to mine?
Let tomorrow come now,
For I think that I shall not survive
Another moment without your soft, crushing embrace.

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Sunset Vigil

Sunset Vigil
– by Staff Sergeant Andrew McFarlane

The news is spread far and wide
Another comrade has sadly died
A sunset vigil upon the sand
As a soldier leaves this foreign land

We stand alone, and yet as one
In the fading light of a setting sun
We’ve all gathered to say goodbye
To our fallen comrade who’s set to fly

The eulogy’s read about their life
Sometimes with words from pals or wife
We all know when the CO’s done
What kind of soldier they’d become

The padre then calls us all to pray
The bugler has Last Post to play
The cannon roars and belches flame
We will recall, with pride, their name

A minute’s silence stood in place
As tears roll down the hardest face
Deafening silence fills the air
With each of us in personal prayer

Reveille sounds and the parade is done
The hero remembered, forgotten by none
They leave to start the journey back
In a coffin draped in the Union Jack