Soldier Boy

Soldier Boy

 

 

 Greenfields of yesteryear, for once I stood as a boy. A drummer boy with a beating drum as we march together through the fields. Friends, Family Neighbors by my side. Each step taken is each its own. The drum beats quicken or they slow matching the rhythm and temple of our march. Not man but a boys heart quickens as the guns fire, beating the drum across the field.  Step by step, the beat is played on through the fields. Our dead their dead falling to the ground, to the beats of the drums… 

Yells of soldiers in the distance upon Green laden fields now stained with blood, the cries of God and sorrows of pain wore on. The boy drumming, drumming marching on the fields, for now, a man has picked up the drum, Home I turn and face the road where once I walked that field alone as the boy now a man. Greenfields lay before me, with the drum in my hand.  Mother, Father I am coming, I am coming home. The drumbeat still now except for the wind of yesteryears waiting, Now picking up the drum.            

Reviews

[...]

This poem have ancient symbol of a drummer. It's can be any human era. All the wars are same people get killed and there is no time for beautiful pictures. But your poem carving beautiful picture into our minds. Well done done ear poet.

[Shep]

Thank you I appreciate your comments as always.

[Coyote Poetry]

The sound of the drums. A symbol of war. In the Civil War. The drums mean the battle was alive. To escape the drums. Can you. A powerful and worthwhile chapter shared my Shep.
Coyote

[Shep]

thanks and old but a good one

[Coyote Poetry]

You are welcome. A new one for me.