Refrains of Joy
Soldiers Returning from Northern Ireland
Through Ulster’s streets they tread once more,
Silent shadows by the door.
The Troubles etched on weary brows,
Their hearts adrift, yet none allows.
In uniforms worn, their youth concealed,
By sights of sorrow, wounds unhealed.
Through whispers thick with midnight’s grace,
They mask their truths, no trace, no face.
"No matter the storm," their souls declare,
"Let joy arise, though hearts despair."
For life’s gift, fragile yet profound,
Deserves no less than hope unbound.
Brothers in arms, steps firm yet fleeting,
Their truths unsaid in each meeting.
The guns are silenced, yet within,
A battle rages, unspoken din.
Home’s embrace, a comfort strained,
As echoes of their watch remain.
The laughter of a child, a fleeting balm,
A thread of peace, a fragile calm.
They recall green hills where peace once stayed,
Before the walls of conflict swayed.
Yet in their hearts, a hymn persists,
Of life, of light, through murky mists.
The Troubles may have marked their years,
Yet they return, suppressing tears.
A soldier’s refrain, steadfast and wise,
Through storm, through strife, let joy arise.
By Paul Baldry (LongJohn)
Feb 20
Feb 20, 2026 at 12:22 PM UTC
Refrains of Joy
Soldiers Returning from Northern Ireland
Through Ulster’s streets they tread once more,
Silent shadows by the door.
The Troubles etched on weary brows,
Their hearts adrift, yet none allows.
In uniforms worn, their youth concealed,
By sights of sorrow, wounds unhealed.
Through whispers thick with midnight’s grace,
They mask their truths, no trace, no face.
"No matter the storm," their souls declare,
"Let joy arise, though hearts despair."
For life’s gift, fragile yet profound,
Deserves no less than hope unbound.
Brothers in arms, steps firm yet fleeting,
Their truths unsaid in each meeting.
The guns are silenced, yet within,
A battle rages, unspoken din.
Home’s embrace, a comfort strained,
As echoes of their watch remain.
The laughter of a child, a fleeting balm,
A thread of peace, a fragile calm.
They recall green hills where peace once stayed,
Before the walls of conflict swayed.
Yet in their hearts, a hymn persists,
Of life, of light, through murky mists.
The Troubles may have marked their years,
Yet they return, suppressing tears.
A soldier’s refrain, steadfast and wise,
Through storm, through strife, let joy arise.
By Paul Baldry (LongJohn)
This poem follows soldiers returning from Northern Ireland, carrying the quiet weight of The Troubles in their hearts. It explores the unspoken battles they bring home, the fragile moments of peace they cling to, and the stubborn spark of joy that survives even in the shadow of conflict.
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