Distant Footsteps.

As I turn the pages of his notebook from the war

I can almost see him sitting there, in the heat of Jubbulpore

a soldier, far away from home, from friends and family

pen and paper in his hands, he sits beneath the tree

writing to the one he loves, careful not to say

anything which might distress her, while he is so far away.

He can hear the distant footsteps of the corporal as he walks

towards him very slowly, troubled by his thoughts

he’s the one who must tell him, the news that comes from home

knowing he must reach him, while he is there alone

when at last he reaches him, a tear is in his eye

not knowing if he can tell him, but knowing he must try.

The soldier sat and listened to what the corporal said

finding it hard to understand that his son was dead

his little boy was playing, happily with his toys

not seeing any danger, not hearing any noise

then the tragedy happened, his life was filled with pain

the bombers did their damage, he was taken by the flames.

So the soldier travelled home from that distant land

to comfort the one he loved and guide her by the hand

through all the grief and sadness, which they now must bear

with only little memories, left for them to share

then when his leave was over, he returned to Jubbulpore

to carry out his duties, in the second world war.

When he was back in India he would often be                                                                                                                                                                                                          whenever a quiet moment allowed, sitting beneath the tree
                                                                                                                                                                                            sometimes remembering how his little boy, all cleaned up and ready for bed   
                                                                                                                                                                                                      would often turn and smile at something his father had said
                                                                                                                                                                                                          and each morning when he awoke, he would hope and pray 
                                                                                                                                                                                                            the ending of the war, was not so far way.

 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    One day he was reflecting on his last time at home                                                                                                                                                                                                                         when he and the one he loved, had felt so very alone

and how they comforted each other, with their love, body and soul

knowing their time was precious, as soon he would have to go

it had been so long ago, many months had passed

he just longed for the time to come, when he would be home again, at last.

He could hear the distant footsteps of the corporal as he walked

towards him very slowly, distracted by his thoughts

he’s the one who would tell him, the news that came from home

his wife, the one he loved, was no longer there alone

for she now had a baby girl, born on a November day

an answer to the prayers, of a soldier far away.

As I close the pages of his notebook from the war

my eyes are getting weary, sleep is knocking on my door

now I find I’m dreaming and a mist begins to clear

I can hear their distant footsteps and I can see them there

walking side by side, on a path where angels tread

a soldier and a little boy, who turns and smiles, at something his father has said.