Harry slumped down in his garden wicker chair
For a well-deserved rest after toiling in his garden all morning
He looked around to admire his work
The lawn stripes, neatly trimmed hedges and weeded flower beds
It was a warm, still Sunday, Summer’s afternoon
Harry decided to continue reading his book
Which he had started only yesterday
It was Goodbye to All That by Robert Graves
It described the horrors of trench warfare in The Great War
The extreme hardships suffered by the troops on both sides
No Man’s land, lethal gas, barbed wire and the deadly Maxim gun
Mutilated and bloated bodies and rat-infested trenches
It re-emphasised the futility of war and the intolerable hardships of the soldiers
Harry was glad that he was of a different generation that had not
Been called up to fight for his country
He found Grave’s recollections both disturbing and depressing
And so, he put down the book to reflect on what he had been reading
He contrasted the beauty of his garden
With the shell holes, burnt out trees and pounded villages of France
The tranquillity of the day was punctured only by the local sounds
The shrieks of excited children playing in the next-door garden
The sound of a distant power tool and the occasional
Dog’s bark and aircraft flying overhead
But there was no bird song which Harry remembered from the past
Where had all the song birds gone?
The Blackbirds, Thrushes and Chaffinches
Their habitat destroyed maybe by over development
Insecticides, paved front gardens and artificial grass
Here was a singular sad parallel with the horrors of The Great War
When there was no bird song either