The boots are muddy, the Brass ain't bright,
But his heart shines like the Sun,
Having Faith in God on High,
Through His Only Begotten Son.
Bless them, Oh God, everyone,
Who keep us safe from harm,
May their Reward honor Your Son,
And the Universe, Disarm.
The original poem has been a favorite of mine, for many years, having seen some of the ravages of War. The poet in my heart has yearned to edit it to hopefully give it a greater Depth (Sailor talk), so I offer the poem as my heart sees it:
Author unknown / (Edit by Arley)
The soldier stood there, facing God,
Which must always come to pass,
Knowing his shoes were shining,
As brightly as his brass.
'Step forward, mighty soldier,
And I shall deal with you,
Have you turned the cheek, and lent a shoulder,
To My Church, have you been true?'
At attention, he did reply,
'No LORD, I fear that I have not,
In my profession, people die,
Being Saintly slips to Second thought.
I've had to work most Sundays,
At times my talk was rough,
Often, using violent ways,
When Diplomacy was not enough.
But, I never took a penny,
That wasn't mine to keep,
So I worked a lot of part-time,
When the bills just got too deep.
I never passed a cry for help,
Though I sometimes shook with fear,
And then, Dear God forgive me,
I've even wept unmanly tear.
I know I don't deserve a place,
Amongst the people here,
They seldom recognized my face,
Except, to calm their fear.
If you have a place for me, LORD,
It needn't be so grand.
I'd not complain, if it be a board,
If you don't, I'll understand.'
In the Throne Room, utter silence
As Saints awaited God to speak,
Ramrod straight, the Soldiers stance,
That moments silence, felt more like a Week.
'Step to my Right, Young Soldier,
You've borne your burdens well.
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,
You've spent your time in Hell.'
AMEN (So Be It Done)