The Homecoming

He’d been away with the army then

For almost twenty years,

And walking back to his village he

Had expected smiles and tears,

He thought his wife would be waiting there

Though his son, he knew, was grown,

He’d been away and protecting them

Though the soldier, now, was home.

 

He saw the village had barely changed

Though the people stood and stared,

He thought that they were in awe of him

Could it be the village cared?

They took in his battered breastplate and

The dents that marked his greaves,

The helmet that had been battered and

The blood on his chain-mail sleeves.

 

He’d walked for several miles since when

His horse had collapsed and died,

It weathered many a battle but

Fell foul of the countryside,

But soon he’d take off his armour when

He would meet again his bride,

And she would make him a pottage, and

Rejoice that he hadn’t died.

 

He’d tramped in the lands of Burgundy

He’d fought in the land of Gaul,

He’d taken the Cross to Saladin

And wept at the Wailing Wall.

His face bore scars from the sword and lance

And a mace had raked his back,

From a knight behind who had been struck blind

In a frontal, forced attack.

 

He’d waded deep in a sea of blood,

He’d trampled a field of bones,

And helped to bury his comrades there

Marking the place with stones,

But now his body was tired and worn

It was leave the field, or die,

His horse had brought him wandering home

To the village of Burton Rye.

 

His wife came out from the cottage door

And she blanched, and shook in fear,

‘I don’t know where you are coming from

But you don’t belong in here!’

He glanced at the short and thickened form

That he didn’t recognise,

‘Are you the wife I’ve been fighting for,

If so, my memory lies!’

 

‘You went away in another life

Leaving none to warm my bed,

I took a shine to the blacksmith here,

Fell in love with him, instead.

It’s twenty years since you went away

Did you think you could return?

You’ve lived the life of a soldier, all

You do, is pillage and burn.’

 

‘I had to go to protect you here,

Out there, it’s a world at war,

I’ve fought the enemy everywhere

To keep the pain from your door.

I loved you when you were slim and young

And your eyes were bright with cheer,’

His shoulders slumped and he turned away,

‘I see I’m not wanted here!’

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[KWP]

a great story here and I wonder just how many other soldiers of war returned home a not so welcome welcome ... but wow twenty years ... a woman has her needs you know .... ;)

you are a master of a jolly romp through any tale .. you words easily take you to another time and place

Thank you David x x

[Dee]

A sad tale of the homecoming soldier Dave, makes me wonder how many soldiers have come home to such a welcome. Again your rhyme and flow are impeccable and the imagery as always picture perfect.
Bravo my friend.......Dee.

[TL Boehm]

It amazes me how you can create characters time after time for whom I find myself feeling such empathy. Fighting for God and country the weary warrior returns to.....more pain. And there goes my heart.

[A Soap Mess Stories]

Yet another good tale David

[Marie]

Did he really expect a woman to wait twenty years?

There was only one Penelope.

[Woody]

never trust a blacksmith nor a mailman :)
you've described something that used to happen in days gone by when wars were fought on horseback and lasted long years.
your usual style is always a delight to read.

[Avinash]

That happens to every soldier. In wars only he lives and is quite unwelcome ,a total stranger for normal society.