The Uniform Poem by Paul Warren

I visited him each week
With a warm handshake and a smile complete
And we passed an hour or two
Talking about the old times that were now through

One day when I visited him
There was the usual meeting and happy grin
Then he to me so solemnly said
"I want the wear my uniform again before I'm dead"

So I took the box from the cupboard down
And undid the string as it was bound
I saw in the box packed with care
His uniform pristine and clean stored there

His face lit up in anticipation
Of the feel of serge and his military presentation
It was a bit of a struggle but he dressed
As he stood and puffed out his chest

And on his chest in pride of place
Were his medals displayed with style and grace
I saw him gently feel the sharp creases and medals shining
As he was transported back with memories that were binding

We spoke of those things old mates do
And the mates who didn't make it through
These happy hours quickly past
His mind was sharp of memories that did last

And that was the last day I saw my old mate
With his life ending as was his fate
But I remember him still in his uniform
Standing tried and true then reborn.

© Paul Warren Poetry