POEMS

PATRIOTIC    REMEMBRANCE   IN MEMORIAM      MISSING YOU   

GENERAL    PTSD

He is with you

He is with you on your waking; he is with you all the time

He is with you, you who loved him and wants you to be fine

He is with you every moment and knows that you are sad

He is with you, hears your tears fall, which makes you feel so bad

He is with you in your sorrow and knows how much you care

He is with you right behind you, but you can’t believe he’s there.

He is with you in your heart dear as you know he’s always been

He is with you, just like always but he just cannot be seen.

He is with you and he cries so as you stand beside his Grave

He is with you more than ever your broken heart to save.

He is with you with your crying and knows how much you care

He is with you, all the time dear and wishes he was there.

He is with you in this struggle, in a world that can be grim

He is with you; yes he’s with you, just like you were for him.

© David Killelay

The Symbol

In the cooling autumn weather, men stand proudly some with tears,

remembering their comrades, remembering their fears.
Of shot, of shell, of bayonets. Of bomb, of tank of guns.

Of ship, of sub, of aircraft. Of foreign mothers sons.
They march with pride, just once a year, their thoughts of horrors past,

some wonder if their offspring, will bear the sting of blast.

In heat and sand and desert, in ice and snow and rain,

the very best of Britain’s youth, are yet sent to march again.
Not knowing what they fight for, the politicians fear,

for they fight for one another, they fight the fight of fear.
A bomb, a shell, a bullet, one more fall’s to the game,

to hospitals they send them, to mend and ease the pain.

Their lot they say for joining, some friends, some public moan,

another lad another lass, another box brought home.
On the news we see them, their photo’s on the screens,

one more mother’s, one more dad’s, one more sibling’s scream.
A devastated family, a household head now lost,

a wife, a son, a daughter, now mourn their grievous loss.

We bury them with honours, a bugle, pipe’s lament,

a salute is fired by comrades, of their own Regiment.
Was it worth the cost of life, young lives lost to the game,

which politicians play to oft, and make themselves a name.
Some shout abuse and mock our troops, upon their return,

for they support the enemy, but still want to share our home.

To those who care, to those who don’t, to those who laze or lie.

The poppy is the symbol for those who fought, or die.
They need support in later life, their children need new shoes,

we need to do our duty, to those that need or loose.
Go buy yourself a symbol, don’t treat it with deride,

so you may live in safety, they still give their lives with pride.

©Bernard Fox

Respect

A road side bomb, went off today

The Newscaster, was heard to say

The relatives, have been informed

Here’s the weather, now performed

So matter of fact and nothing new

Another widow joins the queue

It’s just routine, now on the news

Another valued soul we lose

What can be done to make them see?

They mean so much to you and me

Ex service men, hold comrades dear

From times gone by, to this New Year

Will this slaughter never end?

Why should comrades lose a friend?

We pray and hope and silently reflect

And send to you our deep respect

You are my all

The sun still shines,
Birdsong still drifts across the sky,
For others life still goes on,
But not for you and I.

Each day I see you,
Your warm smile,
The soothing feel of your touch,
With a blink all warmth is gone,
And Naught prevails where your eyes had shone.

You are my all, for you my spirit exalts,
Your words warm me as I read,
Familiar and aging though they be,
But the thoughts of your heart I shall never know,
For it, with mine, perished long ago.

©Jeremy Bellamy 2009

Let Me Lie

Let me lie with my comrades who were lost in the war
Let me lie in peace overlooking this remote shore
Let me lie with my comrades in this plot so small
Let me lie with those who will

never age at all

Remember my comrades in the cold dark sea
Remember those who have no headstone to see
Let me lie with my comrades in this land far away

Let me lie while you pray that the World will be at peace one day

©Peter Southern

Loved one

It doesn’t seem like many years now since your loved one passed away

We go about our business in our very simple way

You potter in your garden, paint the fence in your back yard

I know that deep inside for you, it’s been so very hard

We don’t very well express ourselves, with the spoken word

For garrulous people like ourselves, it’s really quite absurd

I cannot wave a magic wand and change things in a day

Upon this page, I write to you the words I cannot say

I can only write what’s in my heart, your sorrow I can share

I wanted you to know this now, that deep inside I care.

Memories

Memories last longer than dreams,

Of this you can be sure

For when you lose someone you love

You leave ajar a door

From time to time you will look inside.

Where you will see a book

It’s called the book of memories

Just sit and take a look.

As you turn the pages one by one

Thinking of days gone by

You will recall such memories

That makes you feel warm inside.

Every ones life is like a book

A beginning, middle, and end

But the book that we call memories

Will be read time and time again.

Sandra Woolridge (copyright)

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A tribute to the Fallen

Trenchard Lines 19th July, 2007

Submitted by Sean Caulwell in memory of his brother Cpl. Matthew Caulwell, SAC Peter McFerran and SAC Christopher Dunsmore killed in Iraq on July 19th 2007 through a mortar attack on their base.  The words were written by a Medic and read at Matthew's funeral
 
As the sun rises I still feel the blanket of night
You are the one now who will have eternal light
My heart aches, each part of me filled with sorrow
We've fought today, but I need the strength for tomorrow
Your memory, your presence I promise we'll protect
And with it our admiration, gratuity and profound respect
So sleep peacefully now, may your heart be filled with pride
We'll fight harder, be stronger, knowing you're by our side
They haven't won, they've pulled us together
They haven't taken you away because you'll live forever
So I'll catch each tear and hold my head high
I'll smile and Thank You but won't say 'Goodbye'
 
Composed by SAC Claire Magee (COMBMC)

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THE FINAL INSPECTION
Author unknown

The soldier stood and faced God
Which must always come to pass
He hoped his shoes were shining
Just as brightly as his brass.

"Step forward now, you soldier,
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To my Church have you been true?

The soldier squared his shoulders
And said, "No Lord I guess I ain't
Because those of us who carry guns
Can't always be a saint.

I've had to work most Sundays
And at times my talk was tough,
And sometimes I've been violent,
Because the world is awfully rough.

But, I never took a penny
That wasn't mine to keep.
Though I worked a lot of overtime
When the bills got just too steep.

And I never passed a cry for help
Though at times I shook with fear,
And sometimes, God forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears.

I know I don't deserve a place
Among the people here,
They never wanted me around,
Except to calm their fears.

If you've a place for me here, Lord,
It needn't be so grand,
I never expected or had too much;
But if you don't I'll understand".

There was silence around the throne
Where the saints had often trod
As the soldier waited quietly
For the judgement of his God.

"Step forward now, you soldier,
You've borne your burdens well,
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in hell.

To all that serve!

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Requiem to a young soldier from our town

There’s a young man  

Up the road who was killed?

Just the other day

But not at home in a tragic accident

No instead in the dust of war torn

Afghanistan thousands of miles away

And yet he only ever wanted

To be a soldier

So as to live the soldierly way

And be loyal and honest and decent

Whilst serving his queen and country

Not like so many other kids today

Now there’s a mother weeping

And a stern good father most likely

Totally dumbstruck not able to believe

That their boy who they brought so well

Simply ran out of luck and now wont

Be coming home on leave

But this loss and grief isn’t happening

In another country or thousands

Of miles away

But up on the estate we all pass through

Just a little over a mile away

And yet no matter how many of our

Brave young people they kill out there

It will never ever weaken

The nations resolve

Because if we don’t stop our enemies

In their tracks some how then

They will one day come and kill us all

© Kevin Pyne

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