Gently from the plough

Gently from the plough

Gently went the farmer’s plough horse
Off to feed the fields of war.
No one knew where they were going
No one knew what lay in store.

Muzzle soft and gently breathing,
Faithful to the bitter end.
Just another into battle,
a loyal, trusting soldier’s friend.

Pulling guns towards the front line,
Scared and sore through wire and mud.
Honest heart and trusting nature,
Witness to the guns and blood.

Soldiers tried to use compassion
But they knew the price of pain.
Onwards fighting for our freedom,
Was it really all in vain?

All those horses, all the carnage
Worn, discarded as they fell
abandoned then, but we’ll remember
Their long journey through that hell.

All the lives and all the fallen
Long ago on foreign soil,
Helped us to hang on to freedom
Never doubting, heavy toil.

Victory fought so very bravely
The cost was high, the fight was long.
Remember if you will the horses
The innocents that knew no wrong.

Jan Millward©