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janhedger
Administrator
United Kingdom
4309 Posts |
 Posted - 08/08/2018 : 14:49:17
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THE WAR WIDOW
Whitehall is quiet.
Nothing moves.
The Cenotaph ‘stands easy’, bedecked with floral tributes.
The garrulous veterans who’d gathered in pubs earlier,
Drunk on nostalgia and memory,
Have long since said their farewells.
‘Godspeed’, ‘safe home’ they urged,
In the hope another year’s passing
Will allow them to gather once more for Remembrance.
To pay silent testimony,
Take pride in their service,
And talk with easy familiarity of shared experiences.
Now, in the solitude and darkness, unseen and unheard,
The dead of a Ghost Battalion gather at
Horse Guards Parade;
In inestimable numbers,
They march on Whitehall.
Every campaign is represented.
At the Cenotaph, waiting, a small boy squeezes his mother’s ghostly hand.
Although she weeps, the boy exclaims, “there’s daddy at the front.”
As one, the marching Ghost Battalion turns silently to honour the war widow and her son.
Eyes front, march on.
The Ghost Battalion, the widow and the boy are gone.
Whitehall is quiet.
By Tim E
Posted by Jan
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We cannot stop, because if a single one of these men were taken and shot, that would be our fault - Edith Cavell
http://www.janscreativewriting.co.uk/ -updated Aug 17 - with new poems/photo's - video interviews - see PowerPoint slide shows, audio files & my books.
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janhedger
Administrator
United Kingdom
4309 Posts |
Posted - 10/08/2018 : 13:49:20
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| Truly goosebumps when I read and posted this poem - Jan |
We cannot stop, because if a single one of these men were taken and shot, that would be our fault - Edith Cavell
http://www.janscreativewriting.co.uk/ -updated Aug 17 - with new poems/photo's - video interviews - see PowerPoint slide shows, audio files & my books.
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A new poet submission
