A poem for
Remembrance Days
For cause
or country
Young
men are sent to die.
Young
men are sent to kill.
In
these nauseous and twisted times
what
eloquent twisted truths
gave
young men this love of death
and
on the greatest negative
heap
the greatest honour?
Young
men,
equally
reviled and honoured
for
the death they brought
or
the lives they lost,
bring
only grief
and
deserve only pity.
David
Roberts
17
November 2005
Ann-Marie Spittle
THREE REMEMBRANCE
POEMS
MEMORIES OF PAST TIMES
See me march past with the others who remember,
But not with my legs do I pound the parade pathway
Wheeled am I for I am old
But the memories do not die as my comrades did
Little Tommy Tomkins the London Cockney Sparrow
Died when his head got blown off
And I saw it roll towards me
And I froze, and then I ran
Nobbie Clark always up with the lark
Died in a mortar attack
There was nothing left to send home
So they sent back anyone’s to keep the widow’s memories
The list goes on and here am I alive
When I should be with them
A forgotten body in a Flanders field
Yet here I am
I am the record keeper of the Great War
A war to end all wars they told us
But on they rage like an unchained animal that has tasted
human blood
But not mine
I ask myself why not me
And then one day an answer
"Keep these memories and pass them on
That the young may learn and remember"
So here I am being wheeled again
Past the memories of a nation
And I remember Tommy and Nobby
Because nobody else alive does
Ann-Marie Spittle
2006
TO THE FEW
Heads bent solemnly in remembrance
As the prayers of thanks are read
Those here have walked the byways of the dead
And have brought tales for the young
That death may not visit them so easily
Seas of faces that should be so much more
Line the walkway of the monarch
Who has stood with them since youth
And still stands now
As they do
Hymns lace the air
And many fly with the notes
Scenes pass before their eyes for a moment
Then are gone
As they pull themselves forward to the now
As the last post echoes through the hills
Of lands that have been torn, or part of war
And the tears roll out of the buglers mouth
And join the tracks on the faces of the few
And then silence
Silent contemplation
Then reveille
And the remembrance that life follows death
And will for all time
But not all is black this day
For happy times are shared
Of battles fought
And friends met once again
Who many thought had gone long ago
Songs of their time are re-enacted
And Churchill lives again through the actors art
And many return to those speeches
And remember their resolve in those dark days
Fluttering butterfly wings of banners
Carried by those once arthritic
Have made the final push to stand and be counted
Marching to the songs of their lands
Men stand to see them pass
Though regiments that held their names
Have gone into histories archives
Then the march to end all marches
As the warriors of old give it their all
As if their youth had revisited them
And the streets are lined with the grateful
And those who came for their own reasons
And the waves follow them
Lapping gently at their heels
Until every space is filled outside the place of Royalty
And then the beast of war awakens
And flies over as it did in the days of need
Red petals cascade upon the watchers
And a nations heart opens
Filling the air
And says thank you
Ann-Marie Spittle
2006
DO YOU KNOW?
When darkness comes
And with it the shadows of the dead
Do you know?
When battles fought fly around my head
Do you know?
When you speak with an acid tongue
And tell me I was wrong
Do you know the price we paid
In the jungles of Vietnam?
No sit there in your easy chair
And dream your dreams of comfort
Do not break your narrow view
Or try to see from my side
For you break into fears sweat
If your welfare check’s to late
Or someone knocks upon your door
When its getting to way past eight
You judge me without knowing
And that is no judge at all
For experience tells the adult
What the young do not yet know
Just give me one small ounce of feeling
As a parent to a child
And hug me as my heart is breaking
Right here deep inside
I suffered more than you can know
In that dark leafed place
Where death walked side by side with me
And often showed his face
Some days I did not know if I
Was ever coming home
And then I’m faced with acid rain
From you when I come home
I fought because I’m a soldier
And a warriors hearts beats within me
You comfort lover would not understand this
So I retreat
But know this when you finally see
Before your last breath leaves you cold
That all I wanted was your love
And not a heart of stone
Ann-Marie Spittle
2006