The Little Things We Do.

The soldier fell amid the dust
In the road along the way.
Many were the feet that stepped
and kicked him as he lay

No one saw him lying there
Tattered, Dusty, Worn
As with their eyes averted
they marched past the crumpled form

I came alone along the road
and saw the broken man
I gently took him by the hand
and pulled him from the sand

I gave him food and set him down
beneath a shady tree
I quenched his thirst, held his hand
and then I spoke of me

there was a time when I , like they
might have tripped upon upon your face
and cursing loud of unpaved roads
just increased my pace

But having stumbled once myself
and fallen by the way
I remember clearly those who passed
not one of which would stay

Til dancing down the road she came
Her lovely smile wide
Gasping when she saw me
She hurried to my side

She treated me with dignity
and lent a helping hand
and just as I have done for you
She pulled me from the sand

So I could do no less for you
My friend who could be me
then lend a hand and help you rest
beneath this old oak tree

Well the soldier stayed for just a while
then went on to win the war
Along the way he stopped to help
so very many more

And as I continued along the way
I saw depressions in the sand
where once had lain a body
that he had helped to stand
angelsrwatching angelsrwatching
May 10, 2012