Lawrence a Finale

Lawrence of Neasden, Man of action in the past, Reflected with dismay How life had moved so fast. So many years gone now Since they’d gone to war And Lawrence no longer Rode his camel anymore. It’s ashes rested in an urn On the mantle shelf Alongside its photo and Those of Lawrence himself, All dressed in style In their combat gear With others of the Corps All paraded in the rear. Sometimes it brought Many tears to his eye When he recalled Their last fond goodbye Before they’d all dispersed Their duties well done Secure in the knowledge of A fine victory won. There’s an empty space now There in Lawrence’s carport Where in the state of emergency All the troops would report. He can hear the harness jingle, Hears those throaty roars, Where in his mind Lawrence Rides his camel once more. Through the streets of Neasden. If the breeze is just right, Sometimes there’s a little jingle In the stillness of the night Is it the shade of Lawrence Loyal to the very end One last phantom patrol Atop his faithful camel friend.