I sat in the cafe as I had when a boy.

Sitting as if I'd see the world as I did back then,

When the steam from my tea cup 

snatched a rainbow from the window light

It seemed the world was full of colour 

But, now the cafe was derelict, charcoaled.

The window lay in shards & fragments 

The colours of the rainbow, repelling 

There was rot in the architecture 

of both ...

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The sky looked weary 

Pale and colourless 

As were we

I laid down my rifle

and thought of what I'd told her

I'd left it in the hollow of her mind

In the place where dreams ascend 

So, when the day came 

they could carry 

all that grief & sorrow away

and feed it to the clouds

for when they felt like crying

And on that day

Laden with the burden of

a thousand...

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For those who sleep from battles lost

And paid, for us, the ultimate cost

For all who came back from war

Forever scarred by what they saw

The lucky ones, 

      so they say

They got to see 

       another day

But their friends who fell

At the toll of death's bell 

Still haunt their dreams

Upon the fields of screams

Where poppies now dwel...

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As the yellow mist

rolls across the fields

of slaughter

The young man thinks

Of  his unborn daughter

How would she have looked?

How would she have grown?

Would her heart have been full

From the love he had shown?

Would her smile have been his?

Would her eyes have been blue?

And shimmer in sunlight

like fresh morning dew?

Yet, he knew not her mother

Fo...

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The unknown soldier beckons

Don't forget, don't forget

The lost, who somewhere lie

Don't forget, don't forget

The grieving family ties

Don't forget, don't forget

The defeated & the broken

Don't forget, don't forget

with mental scars unspoken

Don't forget, don't forget

The veteran in the street

Don't forget...

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1941

Before the war, Dad would snore

After his shift & a few beers

On the floor, on the couch

The big, lazy slouch

Mam would just roll her eyes

(Give him a sly dig)

Clootie pudding on the table ready

For when his eyes opened slow & steady

He never spoke of 'The Great War'

Of which he had scars to bare 

But sometimes his eyes would well

In rem...

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A WWI remembrance poem

(First published online for Northern Life magazine 2018)

It creaked as he left:

The old garden gate

He’d promised to fix it

But now it was too late

Tearful in the doorway

His mother cries out,

‘Do it when you’re back, Billy!’

And of this she has no doubt

He waves,

And off to glory are the swathes

Of boys, and men in their pr...

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