[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.