by | Sep 11, 2013 | Poetry | 0 comments

Immortalised in vintage stained glass
Their names are etched – the centuries pass
Simple day by simple day on their way

So easy is it for us to forget
The way in which their fate they met
Prostrate on the battle field
No soft hand their brow to shield

As noise and smoke billowed round thier head
To God they cried and then they were dead
Each one longing for the sweetness of home
A maidn’s kiss, a feeling of bliss
No time was there, soon they were gone

Each soldier lost is a hero true

They died for me

They died for you


Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *