They stand in the terminal as I wave them goodbye
Trying to hide the tear in my eye
Looking forlorn with my son in her arms
She certainly doesn’t seem quite so shy
For my part I know the risks I will face
For her part that certainly isn’t the case
All on her own with my son in her arms
It’s the challenge at home for which she must brace
It is domestic routine and daily grind
On her own the fortitude she must find
Facing the world with my son in her arms
The wife that soldier has left behind
There are dangers and hardships and perils ahead
Enough to fill ordinary people with dread
But at home on her own with my son in her arms
Is where all my thoughts and my fears will be led
Alone in the crowd as we said our goodbyes
The fear and the dread were clear in her eyes
An island of us with our son in our arms
With grief and great purpose I took to the skies
Completely unrelated to the previous post. Postings will be light, or in fact non-existent, for some time. It will depend on internet connection where I’ll be. Sharpe out.
Haw!
2 minutes ago
6 comments:
Come home safe.
And just remember that the bastards at Customs will confiscate a necklace made of ears. I'm not so sure about a Taliban testicle tobacco pouch though.
Return safe, Mr Sharpe.
BOAB - eeeeeeuuuuuuwwww.
Travel well and keep your head down
Kae
A succesful mission would be:
"Balls for all".
And one for the kiddies as well.
Godspeed and God bless, Richard.
Stay safe, sir.
Head down, powder dry, all the usual guff from an old warrior, Sharpie.
Wish I was with you.
Post a Comment