Posted in Conflict world wide, History, War

The Women in War

(An Armistice Day poem especially written for the fallen heroes of WW1 for this day, a century after the war began back on August 4th 1914.. This is for all the women that they left behind.)

Can you see my tears in the wind, like rain falling on those rivers of mud?

The brown lanes of toil, though not for fields of life, or grain and green but of red and raw, flesh and blood.

The rivers of life running dry, cut down like the sickle on the corn.

Stripping the dreams of souls who saw a future’s bright on that summer’s morn.

And we wait in the wings of this theatre called war, for a word inscribed with a numbing blow.

For a script no-one could really rehearse, nor who would want to act out the play.

This plot of death with so short a scene to become more than just One Act,

in the voids of senselessness and despairing called The Trenches.

So we call your name in the abyss of our loss.

Your image frozen in time and on our praying lips.

For the hope that we hear your boots coming back to us, mixed with the sun, the leaves, the dust.

The clock ticks to the rhythm of our hearts, for a longing of return now we’re apart.

As the sun goes down on another day and as the darkness forms once more.

We listen for your humming song, against the gun and cannon raw.

Your lives feels lost whilst you still may live and as the bird song calls, the mist lifts.

To another day laid waste and bleeds, entwined with our desperate need.

To know that you are safe, alas, we call, but no-one answers their name.

Let us hope at least that when war finally ends and your futures lost,

The waste was not in vain but for gain, though we scarce know why it had to be this way,

Stripping the dreams of souls who saw a future’s bright on that summer’s morn.

@onethoughtfulwoman Nov 2014.

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Author:

Committed to the education of children and the health and human rights of women and mankind. I also enjoy taking photographs and sometimes I write poetry.

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