[ai] white [ɪ] with [ɒ] got [i:] dream [əʊ] go [e/ eə:] helmet

[ɑ:] charge [ei] wakes [ʊə/ u/ u:] to [æ] gas [ɔː/ ɔɪ ] saw


Veteran's Dream

Mister Dickson, my neighbour,
Who saw the last cavalry charge
Of the war and got the first gas
Walks with a limp


Into his helmet and khaki.
He notices indifferently

The gas has yellowed his buttons
And near his head


Horses plant their shods.
His real fear is gangrene.

He wakes with his hand to the scar
And they do their white magic


Where he lies

On cankered ground,

A scatter of maggots, busy
In the trench of his wound.