Promise you'll catch my mother dear
If she falls when words are spoken
When she sees soldiers she has feared
As the dreadful news is broken.
As she learns we've had our last embrace
Never hear my voice nor yet my laugh
No more to gaze upon my face
Except in aging photograph.
Promise me on her you'll call
And talk of how we worked and played
How we gave our best to all
That if I could, I would have stayed.
Go to the Cenotaph each year
Stand, tall and silent, at her side
Yes, please hold my mother dear
As she mourns and as she cries.
Be to her the child she lost
And let her cover you in love
Her soldier left at such a cost
And waits for trumpets from above
For when is heard that silver sound
Bugling our Saviour's return in light
At last all that was lost is found
And love makes all eyes shine so bright.
~N Fairweather 2011 -11 -11