Major

On the parade ground, crisp and neat,
A major stands with steady beat,
His scarlet sash a vivid hue,
Reflects the sky of Oxford blue.

He commands the troops with quiet grace,
Each order given, each saluted face,
In khaki cloth and polished boots,
He leads the regiment through bright recruits.

Yet beyond the drill and martial call,
He reads the classics in the hall,
A major of the mind as well,
Whose thoughts turn pages where truths dwell.

So here's to him—both sword and scholar,
Whose honour stands both sturdy, smaller,
A major in the field, a major in the heart,
Playing his part in life's fine art.