WAR HORSE by Arthur Cole

Items in this story:

I remember it well, as if yesterday,

my master cried, but he had to obey.

Uniformed men, they stole me that day,

my future now destined, a land far away.



Down to the port, with thousands like me,

winched on a ship, our fate history.

We landed in France, not knowing our worth,

paddocked together, no peace on earth.



Shell blasts I heard, far away in the distance,

all new to me, the night sky it glistened.

That is the night, death hit home to me,

a 'War horse' my fate, that's how it would be.


The following day, a task I was given,

pulling a canon, so unforgiving.

Mile after mile, slowly and tiring,

shells bursting around, brave men lay dying.



Once at the front, harness undone,

back down the line, a hero unsung,

Fed and watered, I lay down to rest,

this foreign field, would be my bequest.


Four years I toiled, carnage abounding,

pulling the canon, gunfire resounding.

I lost many friends, to gas and shell,

that smell of death, made heaven a hell.


Peace came at last, it had taken its toll,

horses and men, many lost souls.

The stench of death, with me forever,

brave men and horse, in heaven together.



We played our part in that abhorrent war,

while enemy soldiers spilled each other's gore.

I was taken by men to follow this course,

home I am now, a strong proud 'War horse'.


Copyright Arthur Cole 2016 (40)

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