Tuesday 7 July 2015

New WW1 POEM by THE MOWDOG...

On Leave

Stone walls:
Permanence, confidence.
Ceiling falls:
Low, oak beams twist imperceptibly
Above rag-rug of dark red off-cuts,
Whilst fire-logs spit their anger
Beneath flaming abuse.
This sole source of warmth and light
In November’s room
Glares its defiance and very resistance… 

Life stalls:
Pretence, reticence.
Fear appals:
Sad, weary eyes falter deceptively
Over vintage of deep, red wine, but
Whilst fire-logs shift asunder
Beneath flames obtuse,
This soul, aglow with warmth and light
In furlough’s doom,
Shares its resilience and very existence…  

Pete Ray
July 2015

Ivor Bertie Gurney’s poem ‘Ypres-Minsterworth’ included the following verse, which affected me rather strongly. The feeling of pervading darkness outside a cottage, the glow of a log fire within, the delicacy of an expensive red wine and a defiance in conversation, all spurred me to pen the above.

‘To think how in some German prison
A boy lies with whom
I might have taken joy full-hearted
Hearing the great boom 
Of autumn, watching the fire, talking
Of books in the half-gloom.’



My wire and cutters...

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.