The old warrior returns to his dream
Erin sits with her tea watches over him.


As the steamer rounded the Cape on its final leg to India.  The veterans looked out over the sea, packing their pipes for a morning smoke.
Some thought of home or who they left back behind.  Sean thought of his new bride.
Her button nose, curve of her waist and green eyes more beautiful than the isle from which he longed for.

Heat
Dust
Smells
Not of home
Soldier dreams
Flys to his love
Closed eyes
Back in the tuath
His bride singing

For the Queen
We march
We fight
We die
For the Queen

The old warriors dreams calm
He reaches out and grasp his
young bride hand.  He is home.
Till his Queen calls.