A Poem! A War Poem!


So Kirsty Asher the film ‘buff’ has decided to attempt poetry…God help us.

Cheery Bye

Cheery bye don’t worry about me,
Although my body’s crossed the sea
My tender heart still rests and stands
In England’s Green and Pleasant Lands.
The sun still shines over Gallic plains
And summer glory still remains
Upon our fresh and youthful faces
Of course we’ve been put through our paces!
The Hun deserve a right good thrashing
Said Colonel Banbridge, oh so dashing
In his dapper suit and medals flashing
For the village girls who waved us by
I kissed my true sweetheart goodbye
And we marched for King and Country through
The rolling hills, the sky bright blue.
 
This life it’s tough I can’t deny,
The time seems to have shot us by.
But though we’re tired we’re happy too
Because we know our cause is true
And Great Britannia keeps us warm
With all her dignity and form.
I write to sweetheart every day
To let her know that I’m ok
And remembering her soft sweet curls
I cannot bear to let unfurl
My deepest, darkest, wildest fear
That is brought to my mind but never a tear
Should be shed when fighting must be done
One last big push to beat the Hun.
 
And though Dicky Clark with half his face missing
Will never hear that dreaded hissing
Of gas which gurgles and consumes,
And through the spattered trenches looms
And catches breath and curdles blood
And squanders a generation in the mud
His parents know and understand
That for his country he leant his hand
And died with dignity and valour.
He tells a lie I can’t conceal
For suddenly it’s far too real
One glassy eye stared to the sky
That helping hand lay thickly by
Cut quick by sniper bullet and lay
In curls of mud. That rainy day
Held no promise for young Dicky Clark
No one protected his tender heart
From the ripping and tearing metal roar
The Sergeant need know no more
Ignorance is bliss for grieving friends
I see no future, nor any end.
 
It’s been two years and I am scarred
With lines and marks and ridges barred
Across my face and body where
The bones jut out, I’m hardly there
My mind is soft, my soul is weak
These days we hardly ever speak
But those rose-scented letters lie
Close to my heart and my reply
Is to tell her how I’ll be alright
Tomorrow’s a big day, I need the night
To gaze across that shit-stained sea
Cheery bye, don’t worry about me.
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