His cradle was hewn from English trees
And all his roughneck days made time for heir adoration.
His backyard was a playground f0r loud dreams
And remembrances.
Now well worn shoes track through fields, That lend their way to hills rooted in his soul.
Thoughts of when he wore a warrior's shield making
Battlefields proud, invade.
Remembered are secrets buried long ago with his armor\

sits easy at the hearth of the Warrior in his smile.
His strength is renewed when in the presences of the talking stones
That spoke of Wisdom before His first cry
Ipon a resting hill, lakes appear water, once red from
The screams of desired Freedom.
and Battle sowards dipped in hopful Baptism.
He sees now that battlefields have returned to the green of their youth,free now from planed chos,Today his battlefields made proud are growing seeds of life.
A nd now he no longer steps through slaughtered bone and flesh.












upon a hillside