Remembering Them.
Let us remember
all imprisoned birds, in order to sing
must visualize
winging to find 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
as going down
behind black hills in yellow dust-ring
the day's sun died
while gunfire soiled aftermath gloom.
Their singing lifted to smoky horizons
with undaunted
courage and when nearing gun-blast
lads' explosive
songs became louder within bedlam's
fear-drenched trenches
and sunk trust in war's godless intent.
Youth's face grinned as bloody scene
became louder and by
sheer resistance to hell's rattling rain
fright was held back when
cheery male 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.
Valour's sound battle,
over for such lads meant voicing effort
bought right into wrongs.
Red as the poppies spilt new blood then
yet alive still their songs.
Let us remember..... and never forget.
-
Author:
Fay Slimm. (
Offline) - Published: November 11th, 2022 06:26
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 38
- Users favorite of this poem: Jerry Reynolds
Offline)
Comments8
It's a high price to pay and for far too many a right of passage without return or reprieve.
High price indeed my friend - - thanks for your comment
Amen!
'as going down
behind black hills in yellow dust-ring
the day's sun died'
just so poignant, dear Fay
You captured the feel I tried to engender in the verse Mek - thank you for your visit.
Beautifully composed Fay.A total waste of youth.Lions led by donkeys always comes to mind.
A waste iof young lives indeed Neil.
Well done, Fay. Veterans day here always brings death close to mind.
Yes sacrificed lives and so young at that time Jerry - they must be remembered.
It is the youth that is tapped for its:
Innocence
Fervor
and by the old rule of war, not the sole son of the family,
so as their blood is shed in the warmth of their chorus, that you have so eloquently poetized,
there is someone back home to fulfill the final rites.
I wholeheartedly agree Suresh thank you for commenting.
A poignant write Fay.
Thank you for your visit dear Orchi.
It is the youth that is tapped for its:
Innocence
Fervor
and by the old rule of war, not the sole son of the family,
so as their blood is shed in the warmth of their chorus, that you have so eloquently poetized,
there is someone back home to fulfill the final rites.
I know I am late in getting here Fay but could not pass by without leaving my mark .. What a magnificent tribute to those who fell for their country and never again trod upon the soil of their homeland .. such an absolute waste and a crime unimaginable .. x
Your feelings for those young ones back then vibrate the same as mine Nev. - - a waste indeed my and let us leave our indelible marks on the crime committed on a whole generation of futurehood
facing such dire lack of men ............. thank you for the comment dear friend....x
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.