His Last Letter Poem by George Bernard Hough

To the one that I love who will soon be my wife.
I write from a land filled with trouble and strife.
Just marking the days passing by oh so slow
`till I`m there beside you then they will all know,
though we were apart, you were true to my love,
proving that I, am the hand to your glove.
Neil went home last week at the end of his tour,
no more patrols will he have to endure.
He wants me for best man when he marries Gill
I hope you don`t mind but I`ve told him I will.


Jack is here with me and sends his regards
he`s talking just now to the frontier guards.
I`m sat here alone, writing these notes to you,
Rick`s watching the crowd I must keep him in view!
Only two weeks to go, then I hang up my hat!
Hello someone is coming perhaps for a chat
He looks A Ok but I`ll be on my toes
the way that things are, one just never knows!
Though he is smiling and filled with aplomb
There`s always the chance he could carry a b-


I forward this letter with deepest regret
for his loved one to cherish, and never forget,
His thoughts were of you, right up to the end
counting the days until your lives would blend.
He was a good soldier and gave of his best
never a murmur `mongst all this unrest.
The friends he has left will never forget
the time spent together, their lives under threat.
He gave for his country the most that he could
His time on this earth, his body, his blood.

Copyright B Hough 2009