My Tribute to the Fallen

Stevie Turner has written a poem to tribute to the the young who died in World War I… poignant and compassionate.

Stevie Turner

I’ve been re-reading those wonderful war poets’ words which Sally at Smorgasbord has been publishing. Today on Armistice Day I thought I’d write my own poem in tribute to the fallen:

Eighteen in 1918, by Stevie Turner

His brand new uniform

Is spattered with blood

As he lies face down

In Flanders’ mud.

Only eighteen years for his life to fail,

Mud dries under his fingernails.

Somewhere a mother knows her son has gone

And wonders how she will carry on.

Father said he’d be a man

And waved him off to wield a gun.

Their boy/man tried to act so tough

But his will to fight wasn’t strong enough.

He would have rather been a painter

A writer, a poet, or an entertainer.

Anything but face the hell

Of trenches, gas and the sound of shells.

His girlfriend holds a lamp of hope

For the love of her life…

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