I’m an old soldier from Nottingham, weathered but still strong,
Now resting here in Saltcoats where the quiet winds belong.
No more the weight of battle, no more the marching strain —
Just time to breathe, to heal, to let the past unchain.
Here by the steady shoreline, I’m finally free to be,
To look back on the life I’ve lived and what still waits for me.
With pen in hand, I wander through the memories I’ve kept,
And shape them into poetry from the roads where I once stepped.
So, here’s to this old soldier, finding peace along the shore —
A place to write his stories now, and fear the dark no more.
Feb 7
Feb 7, 2026 at 10:47 AM UTC
I’m an old soldier from Nottingham, weathered but still strong,
Now resting here in Saltcoats where the quiet winds belong.
No more the weight of battle, no more the marching strain —
Just time to breathe, to heal, to let the past unchain.
Here by the steady shoreline, I’m finally free to be,
To look back on the life I’ve lived and what still waits for me.
With pen in hand, I wander through the memories I’ve kept,
And shape them into poetry from the roads where I once stepped.
So, here’s to this old soldier, finding peace along the shore —
A place to write his stories now, and fear the dark no more.
After a lifetime in uniform and a world of miles behind me, Ive finally found the quiet to breathe, to look back, and to look forward. Saltcoats has given me the space to lay down old burdens and pick up the pen instead to turn memory, hardship, humour, and hope into poetry. This piece is a small reflection of that freedom.
