Let’s go a Marching

I write from the trenchesWith a pen full of fearAnd a shiver of sadnessLike the frost to the dear.

For the winter is harsh nowThrough the flame and the fireAnd the only hands workingAre the clocks on the spire

And the snow is a blanketWhere another dream goes,And I can feel my heartbeatIn the tips of my toes.

So let’s go a marching,Go a marching they said,Through the dirt and the debrisPast the dying and the dead.

Where the feelings are rationedLess than three to a man,When the night says we couldn’tBut the day said we can.

Now I sit on these benchesWith a prayer and a tear,As the poppies wear raincoatsWhen there’s nobody here.

By Peter D Hehir2018

https://petespoetry.co.uk/