The Wife of A Tin Hat Soldier

As my end date approaches,
I remember all I have known;
From the poppy fields of Flanders
To the handkerchief my wife had sewn,

Her pastel-pink initials,
Of A, G, and D.
So graceful her appearance;
Her beauty bewitchèd me.

Her hair, those gravity-defying curls,
And suits of jacket and skirt.
Her being was one of simplicity,
One that never hurt.

A wartime princess.
My heart she would shield,
With those letters she sent me,
In Flanders Fields.

Here below is her letter,
She sent me in June;
In that month of British meadow summer,
Where the strawberry bushes would be pruned.

My dearest love, though seas divide,
And years may take their yield,
Know my heart still walks beside you
In those Flanders Fields.

Your name stitched in my memory,
Your courage, ever bright.
The wife of you, brave tin hat soldier
Still prays for you each night.