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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