Singing..
Let us remember
all imprisoned birds, in order to sing
must visualize
winging to real freedom across open
countryside so
into war\'s cell young marchers strode
whistling then sang
as loaded missiles whined over-head.
Without prior warning a boy started
quietly, others
joined in and soon a tunelessly loud
number proudly
bellowed refrains into shell\'s flak-fire
at going down
behind black hills in yellow dust-ring
the day\'s dying
sun sank in thick battle-soiled gloom.
Their singing lifted to smoky horizons
with undaunted
courage and when nearing gun-blast
lads\' exploding
songs became louder within bedlam\'s
fire-drenched trenches
and sunk in faith war\'s Godless intent.
Youth\'s face grinned as blood\'s scene
raked minds yet met
sheer resistance to hell\'s rattling rain.
Fears held within,
lads\' cheery laughter and balladeering
went on to defy
battleground wailing until breath failed
and young songbirds
when in last thoughts of home-land at
some closing moment
let fight cease with throe\'s final breath.
Freedom\'s battle
over for such lads meant singing effort
forever was done.
Red as the poppy was spilt blood then
and in wars to come.
Let us remember..... and never forget.