Love Poem: Soldier of Fortune 1919
Terry Ireland Avatar
Written by: Terry Ireland

Soldier of Fortune 1919

I’m a soldier of fortune 
Just home from the War
Begging for food from
The woman at this door.
She took me to her kitchen 
Fed me cold pie and beer
Looked at me intensely
No anxiety or fear.

She murmured very quietly 
There’s a human under there
Then she took some scissors
And barbered my hair.
Then with what it seemed
Was a practiced grace
Produced a cut throat razor
To carefully shave my face.

She looked at my quite shyly
Surprising  me when she said
Such a handsome gentleman
Deserves a night in my bed.
We shared together then an
Hour of pleasure and delight.
And then she held me tightly
For the rest of that night.

She asked me to leave
Just as dawn had broken
One kiss goodbye,  very
Few words being spoken
I think perhaps she’d lost
Her beloved in my war
But I’d never asked and 
She never said anymore.

I now carried more rations
In my much heavier pack
Which was again slung
Hanging from my back.
And I’m back tramping the roads
Knowing they’d call me back when
It suited their interests to make me
A Soldier of fortune once again.