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He walked through the valley of death
With his gun; and his thoughts of his home.
Of his wife and his son, of the road where he lives,
Of a place where there’s freedom to roam.These yellow baked sands, the so cruel sun
The heat of this midday place;
The fear of an enemy, a war not yet won,
The wish to be safe back at base.He paused, unmoving, something stood on:
He dare not step off it, but must.
The smoke and the fire reach up, a spire:
And pieces lay wet in the dust.DonG
I remember poppies!
They grow above my face.
I cannot see, but I can feel
A comforting embrace.I was cut down, as they are
Come the harrow and the plough.
By bullet, bomb and war
My fellows let me die.My pieces lie in shredded gore
And rotting cloth and bone.
Here I will live for evermore;
Where all the poppies bloom.Dong 2014.
She waited at the dockside,
Her babies hand in hand;
Waiting for the ship to come
Safely home to land.All morning she had waited
Scanning far and near;
There had been some delay, they said
Though they said not to fear.Her soldier, he was coming home
Where he’d be safe at last;
And her thoughts tumbled, as she stood
Upon her anxious past.
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