by Rebecca Davies | Apr 11, 2009 | Poetry
Tourist laugh where you once lay, waiting to die, dying, dead. Where you once drowned, they now swim; the past is a thousand miles away. But out on the mole, out in the bay, I can close my eyes. I can almost hear your cries as you waited for deliverance. Praying to...
by Len Payne | Apr 10, 2009 | Poetry
Do you hear the drums a beating across the highland glen, as the Red Coats they are searching for the Bonny Prince’s men. The lowland traitor Campbell rules in Edinburgh’s Castle keep, while the widows and the children of slain highland warriors weep. The...
by Len Payne | Apr 10, 2009 | Poetry
Do you hear the drums a beating From a far and distant shore, Do you hear the drums a beating Calling young men off to war, Do you hear the drums a beating Saying send me your very best, Do you hear the drums a beating As they lay them to their rest, Do you hear the...
by Len Payne | Apr 10, 2009 | Poetry
Consider the poor Signalman, often the butt of jest, but on the square at Catterick he’d put a guardsman to the test, he has to be a marksman, clerk and driver too, you’ll see him in a headset in crushed beret of navy blue, to climb a pole with speed is...
by Tony Watts | Apr 10, 2009 | Poetry
And at the bottom of the box lay Hope – its muffled, unstoppable cry – like a cell phone in a body bag.
by BZED | Apr 10, 2009 | Poetry
No more reveille’s, no stand-to, No waiting in a breakfast queue, No half fried eggs in pans of oil, No hot water, hard to boil, No PT kit to help me run, No cold sea dips just for some fun, No racing back to camp at speed, to satisfy some urgent need. No...
