Othel Cowan Poems

There lay the young soldier, see, from his side,
Flows swiftly the current whose dark pulsing tide
Is bearing away the bright sands of life,
And closing forever this wild dream of strife.
...

By her grave as I wipe away my tears,
my mind travels back through the years.
Back to days when I was a tiny child.
and my Mother's hands seem oh so mild.
...

Somewhere, up there in Heaven,
A precious gift is about to be given.
Saith the Lord unto the angels above,
A child will be born, with all of my love.
...