return to Flanders fields -

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my brittle bones are like this fence, so built
on throes of horrors shrouded with the hilt
of war's inanely senseless blade, now dulled
by all the precious souls its edge has culled …
now ages gone, those boys amid their dreams
and yet the air still trembles with their screams
so daubed in bleeding sun, how death imparts
these fields of poppy roods and purple hearts.
~ For Lt Col John McCrae, and all life lost to war ~
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Purple 2" Poetry Contest, Kevin Shaw, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Contest 545 Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
(In honor of the poem by Lt Col John McCrae, and all lives given to war).
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2019
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