by Mark Vine | Dec 26, 2007 | Poetry
The summer came in scented heat as every summer did For two thousand years or more But the lessons in the school-house and the harvest in the fields Were to be the last, in nineteen forty four. No more laughing children and no more drunken nights No more...
by Mark Vine | Dec 19, 2007 | Poetry
I am the eternal soldier; I’m there when you need me Fighting for your liberties down every century Standing on the front-line, bleeding for your cause Just a name on a stone, at which you never pause. Yet all I ask is wages and three square meals a day To lay my life...
