Battle of the sky
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For those still wearing their poppie for Remembrance Day Sunday
There was not a cloud that downcast darkened day, where the sky was ablaze with the deafening roar of the engines- each man in his entitlement, but no one a winner-with each man a guilty sinner; with them who preyed the eagles would be back after their fight-but the sky was billowing mass of smoke-blood-red was the ground-where dogs barked and children did shout at the harrowing sound of the battle of the sky-but there are some that ferociously and fiercely were given another go-and he wished not to cause worry or woe-for he had a hawk’s eye, swift in motion-for love is like the blink of the eye-but his bitter end was to be nigh, let us now be proud of all of them our heads we do bow.
Copyright © Clare Innard | Year Posted 2024
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