Kevin Michael Bloor


From dreamy days of our lost, yearning youth
we strode, like lions down the trail of truth.
But ‘neath the silent starlight’s million suns
we shivered at the savage sounding guns.

They proudly pounded, pelted, till we bled.
(slight soldiers, who for more than war were bred)
Together, lost, long light-years from our home,
we laughed and larked beneath a darkling dome.

Too tough or tired to turn to timid tears,
we fought, but we fought more our frenzied fears!
Our languid lines, with fingers froze, we wrote.
“Those sentences,” the Sarge said, “sugar-coat!”