A Poem by Coyote Poetry
June poem number thirteen.
The wandering soldier, he loved the sin, he loved the gin and he wanted a good death. The wise soldiers know life don’t wait for you. You must seek life, know the jest of love. Love is the hard lessons, most of us will learn too late.
Men learn too late, life isn’t war and love near. A miracle. The old soldier learn the past is gone and cannot be caught again. The new days must be celebrated, tomorrow is far away.
Once upon a time on Mount Rainier ridge. He told the prettiest gal in his world. You are my ambrosia, your kiss is my elixir of joy. Please stay with me and we can create a canvas where love is us and war is just myth and tale. We will allow the enchantment of love to heal our mind of disappointment.
He loved her so and he wanted to dwell in her eyes forever. He knew the soldier’s sin. Finding new wars to fight, long separations and losing kind ladies in the confusion of a messy life.
Now the tavern poet told the girl with the painted face. You are a beauty and please show me your real face. All of us had sin and sin some more. Maybe the fallen must find comfort in the dark taverns?
She laughed at his words and she told him. You damn poets love to whisper promises in the darkness and you damn soldiers believe all things can be forgiven. No, my lover. We are here, just to swim in shit and piss. Accepting less, drinking more. It is okay Johnnie. The Purgatory Inn accept all. Let’s dance and sing tonight and we will be brave till the end. Better to dance, sing loud and drink more. Maybe we find peace. A soldier’s love is a empty life. You love the wrong things and you learn too late. Our last sin, dying alone.