by Carol Holmans | Aug 3, 2014 | Poetry
Today, the army asked for more, He’s just seventeen, when he walked out the door, “Everyone’s fine”, he would write and say. Son, please write you’re coming home, Our thoughts are with you, For what you’ve done. Many months went by, until one day, “Madam, I am sorry...
by Carol Holmans | Jul 31, 2014 | Poetry
A wooden spoon Was my favourite toy, When I was young boy, I would sit with my sister, On the seat, And pretend I had cooked us something to eat. I grew up, wanting to cook, But there was never enough food, To cook all the meals In my mum’s cook book. I joined the...
