Rushed scribbles of war
Cry in mud’s suffocation
Sandbags promise death
Ghosted I am here,
from No man’s land’s melted snow
The shoebox is home
Red cross parcels drip
saturation of trench war
Sixteen million tears
Poppies lost petals
tears on Flanders’ knees in prayer
Keep our children safe
by *paige six
... from a silent space
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Quote-
‘Ghosted I am here,
from No man’s land’s melted snow
The shoebox is home’
Love those lines! This poem packs a punch, very well done. Can I have an autograph?
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Thank you so much. and, no sadly not yet. lol
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hehe 🙂
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Thank you for stopping by Storyteller. — Ray
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You’re welcome, and ditto. It was a lovely change to see background in written accounts of each picture. I will be back, no doubt.
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Sixteen million tears… Beautiful, but so sad.
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Thank you, Amy. War is very sad.
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My grandparents fought in WWII and their stories still echo inside of me to this day.
Masterfully written!
Dajena 🙂
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I have a picture of my grandfather on my mother’s side on his horse as a young soldier – he went through both wars and it is shocking how today there are so many troubled hotspots boiling over. That and armed forces day spurred this intent. Thanks you for taking an interest, Dajena.
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Reblogged this on As it Comes and commented:
This was for this month and armed forces day and now for to mark the centenary of the Battle of the Somme. Thank you. You will never be forgotten.
Thank you for all your previous support too.
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