Leave My Boots By The Foot Of My Bed Poem by Mira Midha

Leave my boots by the foot of my bed,
And let it not be said
That the soles who wore have lost their tread,
For that is not so, shall never be,
‘Cause the path beneath waits for me.
For now I am gone, though not for long,
Every sunset shall hear my bugle song,
My rifle tipped against the wall,
Awaits my duty call,
As do my medals by bedside lie,
To be pinned on an honoured chest so high
By hands bestowed with revered pride,
No one can say a soldier just died.

I survived…..
I survived in every new born babe,
I survived in every soul I saved,
I survived in the freedom of this soil and air,
I survived in the palm of your hands in prayer.
Leave my boots by the foot of my bed,
And let it not be said
That the soles who wore have lost their tread.