My Poetry

This is a display of my poetry. You can leave comments or your own poems. I agree not to use anyone elses poetry without permission and would require others to do the same.

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Location: Bedworth, Warwickshire, United Kingdom

I am Mum to 2 sons who have been inspiration for much of my poetry. I'm also blessed with 2 bonus daughters and 3 granddaughters. I have had several poems published in different books but I thought it would be nice to keep it all in one place. Unfortunately I don't have all of my older poetry but I've tried to remember to keep new stuff here. You can also see articles, poems, and the occasional short story of mine on Vocal https://vocal.media/authors/sapphire-ravenclaw Buy my designs on various products here: SMRavenclaw.redbubble.com You can also search for my work under various names: Sapphire M. Ravenclaw, Rebecca/Becky Lucas/Harvey

Monday, August 11, 2014

Red

'Red' by Rhys Tamborski (my son aged 14)
Red, red is all we see
The colour of blood all around me,
With each and every breath,
We know, we're getting closer to death.
Back in the trenches we have walls of mud,
Rats and lice share these ditches with us,
Every man: over the top will add to the blood,
The blood that stains our trenches and clothes.
Out in No Man's Land; the field of death,
We will draw our final breath,
We will go over the top again,
Only to be killed by German men.
Red: the colour of blood.
Red is all we see,
The colour of blood all around me,
With each and every breath,
We know we're getting closer to death
We are Murderers now,
No longer human,
We've killed so many innocent men,
But why? Because they signed up, just like us,
Thinking it would be brilliant, thinking it would be fun.
But no, it's NOT! Whenever we see the sun
We know we're going over again,
Just to kill more men.
Red, red is all we see,
Their blood surrounds me,
The blood of men; enemies, allies, friends,
We know that all lives have ends.
Red, red is all we see,
The colour of blood all around me,
With each and every breath,
We know we're getting closer to death.
Red of blood,
Mixed with brown of mud,
I draw my final breath,
And taste the bitter scent of death

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