The Battlefield
A mist shrouded field, weaved on nature’s loom.
Serene, dancing flowers, a lover’s perfume.
A bride expectant, in her wedding room.
Opened arms wide, to embrace her groom.
Row upon row, young men of whom,
a mother feels pride, in seed of womb,
Soldiers, in finery, a boyhood costume.
Peacocks aplenty, in colorful plume.
Anger and hatred, which doth consume,
a youth, lost and forlorn, in smoke and fume.
Growing oak saplings, injuriously hewn.
Given of old, to fateful doom.
To mothers and fathers, a lost heirloom.
Eternal flowers, a nation’s spring bloom.
To triumph’s jubilation, a warrior’s tomb.
Their deeds and heroics, in spirit exhume.
(2013)
