A Dashing Blade

Terry Trainor By Terry Trainor, 16th Jan 2013 | Follow this author | RSS Feed | Short URL http://nut.bz/33i8q05k/
Posted in Wikinut>Writing>Poetry

A old soldier lays on his bed it is his last day. The memories of his wonderful life return.

A Dashing Blade

In a house high on a hill an old man grows weak, many years have gone, he lays in his old bed,
Back in the day, a dashing young officer with a brilliant red uniform he had many girlfriends,
Flowers scattered across the mead's and meadows the heaths and the glades and over wide glens,
Those days bright and hot, the occasional thunder announces itself in the seasons sultriness,
Today it is summer again trees rich with green leaves now darkened and oaks have little acorns.

Laying in his bed the French doors wide open, summer greets him warmly for just one more time,
White haired and thin his skin yellow and his eyes sunk into wasted sockets his lips quiver,
He remembers the woods well, sitting by a sheltered warm bank, new greenery bursting through,
He tries hard to sit up and to see his long ago self in the beautiful green ripening gardens,
Sweet flowers know him well, respectfully they nod to an old friend who is going on a journey.

As a man who liked to be outdoors he walked and tended these landscapes even as a young blade,
He casts way back to his youthful days when he would walk in the sun a sweet girl at his side,
Running up a woodland bank, his hands on hips, he would wander miles enjoying wonderful views,
His heart raced with joy as the carpets of the forest grew around tall trees along the floor,
Now the songs of the birds grow faint the nightingale is hushed and the cuckoo bows his head.

A nurse tiptoes in she quietly shuts the doors, he whispers, she cannot hear him but she looks,
It is so faint she goes to his bed bends down to listen her ear to his lips they barely move,
He says don't shut the doors the beauty makes me feel safe my old friends are out there waiting,
She lifts him higher, puffs his pillows adds another blanket she smiles, 'you are a lovely man',
The blackbird and the thrush perch near the French doors and sing a musical goodbye very softly.

He can now see the Coltsfoot and cardamine in the fallows with green moss in the moist meadows,
And the star of Bethlehem gleaming from the copse the woods, a special beauty from shady places.
The celandine and kingcup glow in golden lustre he watches them his eyes rheumy and tears fall,
Daisies scattered across lawns like patterns in a carpet of lime green, smelling of spearmint,
The elder flower, corn poppy and the viper's bugloss with a rich azure smile from his garden.

He begins to smile shakily at the crocuses spreading a purple flood over the greenest meadows,
It's a sight you have to see, to take it in, color returns to his cheeks on his ashen old face,
Above all the favorites of the field is a violet, many times he picked one for his lady friends,
White, purple diffuse sweetness under hedges, a landscape painted in mind, those were good days,
Young girls would walk arm in arm across the glades to listen to his wondrous battle stories.

These pictures of beauty he has known since his early childhood days, his memory so very clear,
Whispering do you scent the hay, do you hear the scythes ringing, do you hear sweet laughter,
The joys of running across green fields like young breeze and smelling sweet newly cut grass,
Scented breezes fill his room, his eyes close, happy to return to his precious long gone days,
And with his last breath he walks arm in arm with a beautiful young girl in sweet old meadows.

Tags

Flower, Flower Beds, Flower Carpet, Flower Garden, Flower Gardening, Flowering Plant, Flowers, Glades, Hay, Meadows, Meadowsweet, Meads

Meet the author

author avatar Terry Trainor
I am a Poet.
My passion is to write about nature and the history of nature.

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Comments

author avatar Stella Mitchell
16th Jan 2013 (#)

A lovely poem Terry . I could only read the last part as adverts cover the page , so I will read on PP. No problems there
Bless you
Stella

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author avatar Stella Mitchell
17th Jan 2013 (#)

It would seem the adverts have gone that shouldn't have been there , so I will say how much I loved this beautiful picture full of nostalgia and musings of the fine officer in his final moments . Lovely.
Bless you Terry for this lovely work.
Stella

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author avatar Terry Trainor
18th Jan 2013 (#)

Thank you Stella. I am finding it hart to write at the moment, I have run out of ideas.

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author avatar Delicia Powers
23rd Jan 2013 (#)

Beautiful, my father was such an old solider...he was robbed of his memories in the last years of his life by Alzheimer's-your poem moved me deeply as these lovely poem was what was stolen from him...beautiful memories...beautiful poem...thank you Terry.

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