The dawn is gently breaking
The air serene and still
No man’s land a grassy field
Just beyond the hill
The battery, a homestead
With windows welcoming,
The tangled wire a 5 bar gate
Where bluebirds sweetly sing,
Each muddy track a furrow
Furnished by the plough,
Each tortured cry of misery
The lowing of a cow,
The acrid stench of cordite
Like heaven’s perfume drifts
To mingle with the belching smoke
Of Autumn’s cooling mist,
Faces dressed in terror
Are smiling as they rest
In crumpled khaki uniforms
As sharp as Sunday Best,
This blanket torn, how soft, how warm,
A silken downy sheet,
How sweet this quiet moment
With all the world at peace.

The dawn is gently breaking
Sweet Saviour I implore,
Hold back the sun and let me dream
For just one moment more.