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Rural Pastrual Idle Feild And Meadow Warning!
In a foreign lush green sprawling land
A patchwork carpet stitched together
In shades of tawny browns yellows and green
Rugged rock forest and wind-swept moor
Is a awe-inspiring spectacle to be seen
In summer's adorned frock adorned bushes and trees
A brush stroked varied blue overhead sky
Hangs silently perched high
Boisterous winds stir and waft the barley field
Skylarks asend trill and twitter
The silver ribboned ambling streams and rivers
Snake through Vale and sweeping valleys
The golden radiant solar orb stretches its rays downward
Painting and illuminating the landscape below
Sheep and cows graze majestically on the cud
On idle pasture where butterflies flutter
A colourful flashing ballet
The thorny prickly hedgerow divides the fields
Meadow and pasture
Along with unevenly staked weathered stone
Moss Leching pittered upon its old drystone walls
But the idyllic tranquil scene
Hides secrets scars and wounds
Of so long ago
Barbed wire razor sharp replaced the hedgerows
A sea of puddles and mud
Riddled with pits hollows and mounds
Chocking sulphur and brimstone
Mists expelled from obliterating shells and rattling sprays
Of gunfire torn and ripped from flesh ravines and streams of blood
Tainted the cold wet blood
Haunting screams and cries for Mother reverberate
As the bombs keep on coming and pounding down
To the sodden ground
No respite no ceasefire
No White flag
Just a mass of death and destruction
Individual stories never read or seen
A hell on earth nightmare
Long forgotten souls
Never to see the sun
Brothers In arms
The girlfriend's wifes and family are now gone
The knock on the door telegram delivered they feared so much
Reading, ''Lost in action''
A bloody war
The likes never seen before
They called ''the war to end all wars
But war
sadly still persists
Young lives cut short
Many never had ventured from the village
Or the town they grew up in
Sent to a strange unknown place far across the sea
Leaving loved ones far behind
With trails of tears
Marches of Young smiling boys
With their brothers uncles and pals
Parade up and down
In their smart uniforms
The sound of boots pounding in sync
In every city or town
In smart new uniforms
Heads held high
Bsnds play string music
Crowds shout clap and wave flags
Young children follow behind
Saluting and marching along too
Throwing flowers and the odd kiss
With the promise
The war will be over by Christmas
And you'll be back home Lads
A promise never fulfilled
So many Boys and horses fell
In a war they really didn't understand
Fighting foes
Fathers sons and brothers
On the opposite opposing side
All to murder someone who they had never met
Just like themselves
So young and full of life
Both sides scared and petrified
Photos of loved ones kept in a pocket close to their heart
And perfumed letters
From back home
Provide a little comfort where there is none
As they reminisce through the lens of time
The lush green meadow where as children they'd
Make daisy chains and roll down hills
The folk they knew and now miss
Mother's cooking
School friends
Village fates and parties
Only to be
Cut down in the prime of their lives
Bags of nerves on the edge
The relentless deafening pounding
Shaking the muddy ground
One of the most nerve-wracking
Is when the shelling suddenly stops
Ears still ringing
And the tension gets too much
You're just shacking
Waiting for the pounding sound
And the obliterating slaughter starts once more
Copyright ©
Peter Dome
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