Reading about WWI became musings on Anne of Green Gables became remembering the poem 'In Flanders' Fields' became this. Enjoy.
There the poppy heads hold sway
Like red red faces bobbing by
The bedsides of the boys who've died;
Handsome men in khaki clad;
So different from those naughty lads
Who wooed the lasses, left and right,
And were called to War, to live, to fight,
Tears were shed for fathers, sons,
Husbands, brothers, all, all gone;
Marched away to far off lands
And folded into death's gray hands,
But what of those so left behind
Too far away for war to find,
Are they safe from sorrow's hold?
So, is all that glisters gold?
They fought, it seems, so long ago;
Remembrance fades as breezes blow,
But time does not forget the boys
Whose blood was spilled by foolish ploys,
In cold gray lands so far away
Where white white crosses there hold sway;
Phantom horns, they sound the call
For the boys that in Flander's fields did fall.
Poetry by Mklnay
Read 869 times
Written on 2010-11-04 at 15:42
Tags War
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
The Boys
In empty fields so bare and gray,There the poppy heads hold sway
Like red red faces bobbing by
The bedsides of the boys who've died;
Handsome men in khaki clad;
So different from those naughty lads
Who wooed the lasses, left and right,
And were called to War, to live, to fight,
Tears were shed for fathers, sons,
Husbands, brothers, all, all gone;
Marched away to far off lands
And folded into death's gray hands,
But what of those so left behind
Too far away for war to find,
Are they safe from sorrow's hold?
So, is all that glisters gold?
They fought, it seems, so long ago;
Remembrance fades as breezes blow,
But time does not forget the boys
Whose blood was spilled by foolish ploys,
In cold gray lands so far away
Where white white crosses there hold sway;
Phantom horns, they sound the call
For the boys that in Flander's fields did fall.
Poetry by Mklnay
Read 869 times
Written on 2010-11-04 at 15:42
Tags War
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text|
Ferenc Inigo Beck |
|
josephus |
