Once again we enter a time of remembrance to loyalty and courage with a poetic cartharsis toward the lives lost during many long wars and memories still in fields of rest.
Where art thou life…
…of missed opportunity and fayre,
laying dormant upon fields rest.
Broken bones disguise broken hearts in heralding sleep,
spirits pine for what was or could ever have been.
Rushes breathe superfluously radiant bloom,
infusing colour to Mother Nature’s nothing…
…for it’s here she weeps.
Here life sits amongst the barren hills
where wild flowers seem to graze,
To reside in quiet of comforts sills
art this our longest gaze.
Nick Hawkins 2011, all rights reserved