29 December 2003

For a friend...

All night long, I lay there, still,
On that dark green wooded hill,
Until the day, my enemy to kill.

I thought he'd come at dawn,
When with his troops he would press on,
And continue with his trek so long.

Twas no ill will I bore for this man
For I was in his native land.
And he, like me, wore soldier's tan.

The night was long, dark and cold,
My legs grew stiff, no room to fold.
I smelled of dirt, of sweat and mold.

The night's soft sounds my ears did find,
The scratch of leaves, the mosquito's whine,
I dreamt of home, to pass the time.

Then came the dawn and through the haze
The soldiers strolled, as in a daze,
Their path along the bush-filled maze.

As there he stopped as if he knew,
His life's short work, he was all through,
He paused and looked, up my way too.

He stood amongst his men with ease,
From my hide there was no breeze,
Came then my breath, my sight, and trigger squeeze.

From my rifle, a bullet flew,
And found its mark, its flight path true,
Then numbered 12, the men I'd slew.

But just before I slid away,
A glint of glass, my glance did stay,
A distant spot, another lay!

For just a moment my blood did chill,
Then came the shot, another's skill,
I'd been discovered! Now on that far off hill,
Both day and night. I lay there still.

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