Last night I dreamed
I searched the tired faces
Of the soldiers as they marched
You were not there.
They marched in file
In unit and battalion
You were not there.
Through a sea of camouflage
Desert khaki, dress blues and kilts
You were not there.
I asked the stragglers
Making up the rear
‘Have you seen my boy’?
‘He was with us’, answered one
Looking wistfully behind
You were not there.

This morning on the radio
I heard, ‘another soldier killed’
You were not he.
Last night in my dream
I searched through
The ranks of the dead.

Oh what Joy to find,
You were not there.