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02/10/2014 Poetry - Lucy Coats http://www.lucycoats.com

Marching brown rows, furrow-filled fields

mirror stone ranks of white.

Seeded by death, war's bloody yield -

a harvest culled by Night.

Views: 859

Comment by Rosie Pike on October 2, 2014 at 9:38

Crimson fields, concealed by beautiful horror,

Covered the painful land.

Causing a massive problem, as many still needed, a restorer,

Each side knew that they must fight til' the other was unmanned.

By Zachary Cliff, Charlie Hughes, Vibha Menon and Marcin Matys

Comment by Simone Pope on October 2, 2014 at 10:48
I, of course, knew this was true,

Every man of the land was dammed,

Their lives in the future was doomed to be blue,

The door to their lives was unexpectedly slammed.



People expect for them to fight,

That’s what they convey,

Go on till daylight,

Every single day.



The master his name sounds in bells,

Ears ring with his voice,

Echoes coming out of wells,

The men may have no choice.



These delicate, harrowing memories,

Haunt my every feared slumber,

As I drift away, my strolling mind, they seize,

Reminding me of the guilt I lumber.




By Izzi and Rhiannon

Woolmer Hill School, Haslemere, Year 8, 8GCL
Comment by Katie Barnard on October 2, 2014 at 11:47

Then again I hear that fateful bang,

From the War bombs – come a clang

Screams of Terror From all around,

Bodys being discovered and found,

When suddenly I see that beautiful sight,

A flag that is the colour of ivory white.

 

BY PHOEBE AND ANOUSKA

 

ST. JAMES SENIOR GIRLS SCHOOL

Comment by Jayne Davidson, WHHS, UK on October 2, 2014 at 13:36
They’ve surrendered, a cheer flew over the ground,
Dancing and chanting: what a wonderful sound,
Weapons were dropped, celebrating began,
As the battlefield cleared,
I looked back.
Memories come to my head,
Most of my friends are now dead,
Bodies of soldiers dropped like flies,
Tears are now dripping from my eyes,
It’s all over, I can’t do anything now ,
It’s time to go, and my head to bow.

By Tom and Harry
West Hatch

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