Written at the time of the passing of a dear friend a number of years ago:
Lest I forget
On a hill above the valley
Stands a soldier of the Lord
One hand upon his staff
In the other, the mighty sword
Upon his back there hangs the shield
That he carried on his arm
Though pitted, scarred and dented
It kept him from life’s harm
His feet are shod with peace
While through life he made his way
As he ran with the message
Of God’s salvation way
His loins are gird with truth
With the breastplate on his chest
And he knows this final battle
Soon, will lead, to eternal rest
As he turns to view the valley
His helmet reflects the Sun
And he sees the terrible battlefield
Over which, he now must run
For the enemy has awaited
Through the years to meet him there
And now, as the time approaches
His vengeance he will not spare
The old soldier straightens his body
All worn with the passage of time
And he hears his Commander calling
This final battle is Mine
He lays the keen edged sword
In its sheath upon his side
And he grips the old wooden staff
Which time has tested and tried
Now forward into battle
The old soldier makes his way
And at the moment the enemy conquers
Dawn breaks on the eternal day
Not known in this world
For any power, wealth or fame
An unknown soldier
Who labored in his Savior’s name