Len A. Hynds
THE JOURNEY HOMEWARD
Three long weeks on that troopship,
we were homeward bound at last,
surrounded by staunch friendship,
which would soon be in the past.
Three long years in that desert land,
as soldiers for the king:
A rough old life in that desert sand,
and the scorpion’s hateful sting.
Of we thirty two, who had left home,
young men in the prime of life,
only twenty of us regained the foam,
the rest were lost in strife.
But those other lads were with us,
towards the land that gave them birth,
In spirit, with a soldiers cuss,
and frequent soldiers mirth.
We lined the rails, before dawn that day,
for the first sign of our shore.
Was that a hill, or a cloud so grey,
we all glimpsed, or thought we saw?
By mid-morning we passed hills of green,
like heaven, after dust and sand.
Such pleasure deep, could oh! be seen,
With all gazing at that land.
©Copyright September 28, 2010 by Len A. Hynds
Author’s Note: This poem relates the magical journey homeward to England after three years in the desert, in that dreadful troopship, “The Eastern Prince”.