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  The Soldier -- by Leslie Burchard

I looked and saw a figure pressing,
Toward me from the snowy plain.
A soldier man I sat there guessing,
Who had a weather beaten frame.

I hailed him as he drew near to me,
He asked to sit beside my fire.
Speaking soft through heavy breathing,
He said I'm feeling very tired.

I gave him coffee hot and steaming,
Placed some meat onto a plate.
He seemed to me like he was freezing,
As he ever slowly ate.

His whiskers long and some what dirty,
His eyes shown red from loss of sleep.
He looked to me to be round sixty,
He humbly thanked me for the meat.

I took a pillow and a covering,
Asked of him to stay the night.
He said I could stay till the morning,
Leaving in the early light.

I could not help but wonder if he,
Had some family or friends.
I asked him if he would want me,
Help him find one of them.

He spoke of one he'd loved so deeply,
He said her hair was autumn brown.
Her eyes he said were blue and sparkling,
His head turned slowly to the ground.

Susan was the girl left waiting,
When I was called to fight at war.
When I returned, his head still drooping,
She did not love me anymore.

There was silence, know words spoken,
I stared at the open sky.
I knew his heart still was hurting,
I watched him softly close his eyes.

I woke early the next morning,
Got the coffee hot to pour.
All along I thought him sleeping,
But he had died the night before.

I thought he died so broken hearted,
For years had carried all this pain.
But since from this fair life he's parted,
Perhaps a heaven he would gain.

Farewell, farewell sleep on old soldier,
No more battles for you to fight.
You should have lived to be much older,
But death has taken away your life.

Dream on, dream on you've earned your resting,
Find comfort in your victory gained.
For your released from life's old sorrows,
All life's heartaches and life's pain.

I searched his clothes for something stating,
Who he was or where he'd been.
But he had nothing on him showing,
If he had family or friends.

Beneath the sod he now lies sleeping,
A simple marker at his head.
An unknown soldier lays here resting,
But " REST IN PEACE " is all it says.

This poem was by written by Leslie Burchard of Greenville, Missouri.
Inspiration: "This poem was written by me several years ago after I had visited an unknown soldier's grave near where I live. And from my imagination there this poem was born."

© 2000 Leslie Burchard
All rights reserved.