Three WW1 Poems, a tribute
Poem 2: The Waltz and the Lance
Every man will dance to his tune,
Whether his comrades can hear it or not,
And when the music fades too soon,
The memory will glue him to the spot.
To twist and turn about his fate,
Is no mean feat when others are in charge,
Inclined to pause and hesitate,
A private moment to enlarge.
Who a man dances with is his,
For in the music they make together,
Softly, nobody's business is,
But theirs and the memories made forever.
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