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An Ode To The Green Jackets
Contributed by
baronhawk
on
Saturday, 10th April 2004 @ 09:52:26 AM in AEST
Topic:
oops
|
Hurrah! Hurrah!
Cheers for the rifles,
Loyal Green Jackets.
Hurrah! Hurrah!
Cheers for the rifles,
Royal Green Jackets.
First in the field,
and the last ones off!
"Fix Swords!"
Their fabled cry,
"Charge!"
into the mealstrom where Dante dwells.
"Form Ranks!"
The lads complied,
"Fire!"
Letting loose their hell.
Spiral-grooved Bakers,
lightning bolts of death.
The long-armed rifles,
whose touch the ultimate test.
Of one shot kills,
and long-ranged hits.
Snipers at will,
and marksmen to wit.
With their deadly rifles,
and their long sword-bayonets.
Marching into parables,
upon legends and martial tenets.
Serving in ranks,
and in commission.
All those lads,
who served with distinction.
British toffs,
upscale gentlement.
Country esquires,
the gentry of England.
Cockney gents,
Portobello twits.
Wild eyed urchins,
from guttered city streets.
Farm bred lads,
from shire comes.
Cityslicking men,
from factory towns.
Scottish men,
highland and low.
grandsons of warriors,
with blue painted brow.
The fiery Irish,
their tempers true.
Never get between,
an Irishman and his brew.
Welshman born,
from hardy Wales.
descendents of bowmen,
the longbows of tales.
American loyalist,
from troubled colonies.
divided in loyalties,
to empire or dignities.
Different brouges,
of different tounges.
the quarrels they had,
when they get really drunk.
Different breeds,
of different kinds.
Different in creed,
but in one regiment they stand.
Rifles they are,
brothers as one.
their jackets green,
a mark divine.
Upon the slopes,
in Portugal, Spain and France.
Beating back the tides,
of Bonaparte's advance.
The match and the scourge,
for the Vortiguers of France.
the light infantry,
in skirmishes and advance.
Upon any grounds,
contested by France.
There's a gravestone that marks,
the grave of a Rifles man.
To Denmark, to India,
the Americas and hence.
The stern whip of a monarch,
against rebellious intent.
Their ranks a bulwark,
their shots just punishment.
Traitors and oath breakers,
they punish with impudence.
Upon nearby neighbours,
or distant frontier.
The creed of the Rifles,
for the glory of Empire!
Hurrah! Hurrah!
Cheers for the Rifles,
Loyal Green Jackets.
Hurrah! Hurrah!
Cheers for the Rifles,
Royal Green Jackets.
First in the field,
and the last ones off!
Copyright ©
baronhawk
... [
2004-04-10 09:52:26]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: An Ode To The Green Jackets
(User Rating: 1 )
by Stitch on
Saturday, 10th April 2004 @ 10:19:35 AM AEST
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Have you done any based on LOTR?
I'll have to look. You make battles far more interesting to me.
Stitch |
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Re: An Ode To The Green Jackets
(User Rating: 1 )
by venkat on
Monday, 12th April 2004 @ 06:17:02 AM AEST
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| I hear the marching sounds of a disciplined army..welldone dear Soldier poet. venkat |
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Re: An Ode To The Green Jackets
(User Rating: 1 )
by Kie on
Monday, 12th April 2004 @ 07:23:23 PM AEST
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Discipline is a hard master at least for me. I am disciplined when I need to be and the rest of the time I am well..ummm...Kylie.
The battles you bring to life as I picture miniature men upon the fields. You do exceptionally well in this arena.
But you know what? When I read "green jackets" those two words I automatically thought of the masters tournament in Augusta and the famed green jacket. Okay so I watch golf...I admit it!
A very impressive poem o wise one..
Kie |
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