Email Poem

Your IP Address: 216.73.216.228

Your Email Address:

To Email Address:

Subject

Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem

SANDS OF GALLIPOLI’S BLOOD

On the sands where diggers bled
As they came ashore,
To fight the good fight,
Puppets of a master’s whim
Of loyalty to a crown of way beyond,
No hesitation to join and follow fellow brothers here,
From the land of hard toil of country life,
From the landscapes of city folks,
From mining deep down in mining coals,
From the fields where they dug for gold,
To butchering beasts on the hooks,
And from behind the counters of banks, post offices and desks in offices,
They came not hesitating,
They came in droves,
Some were boys who lied about their age,
And some were older who lowered the time 
of their existence here on earth,
And many here were wanting to escape an existence of being bored,
And many fathers and sons said goodbye to mum,
And for the majority
They were in their prime,
The cream of this young nation’s crop,
And in their droves descending strong
Upon the place where they swore allegiance to a King they didn’t know,
Then on a meagre practice of scantily put together months,
They left our shore,
Packed like sardines in their ships,
Off on their great adventure and escape from a relatively known to unknown,
And from Albany Sound that day in November
First of convoy of ‘Zacs departed,
And on the way a decision made to bring together this motley crew,
To land upon a foreign shore
And storm the shores of a place,
That’s gone down in history to be
Where on that fateful day
A legend was born,
And became widely known as;
The sands of Gallipoli’s blood.

Francis Cooper – Mac © 30-Jun-20

CAPTCHA Preview

Type the characters you see in the picture

Required