09/10/2014 Poetry Lucy Coats http://www.lucycoats.com

[WP Central]

Marching brown rows, furrow-filled fields

mirror stone ranks of white.

Seeded by death, war's bloody yield -

a harvest culled by Night.

[Charlotte de Gruchy]

And death by day
Hope, love and life,
All strangled by war
Nothing but the deathly cries of silence were left

Brave warriors hoping for life
Rivers red, Fields feared
Bombs erasing hope from the minds of men

By Cate, Ana and Aanya, International School of Cape Town

[Nicola Gowing]

 

Soldiers marched with guns at their grip

Striding together in rows of ten

Helping their country, loading the ship

Heroes of war fighting again

 

Heads held high; filled with grief  

Not waiting for a fight

Surrounded by belief  

Not an enemy in sight

 

 

 

 

Waiting within the night

Goosebumps bound to arise

Eyes closing as the very slight

 Dreams haunt him with her cries

 

Awoken by fear

Her not to be harmed

Not like last year

To come home and not be alarmed

 

“Please” he sobbed

“She’s done no wrong “

“My heart‘s the only thing she’s robbed”

“She finds it hard to be strong”

“Especially as I’m gone”

 

Great Yarmouth high school

Erin Spooner, Jessica McGregor and Mackenzie Garritley

Year 8

[Debbie Baird]

She Wept, she sobbed, she craved his love
Searching for a sign from heavens above

"My love you must return to me" She cried and waved him off
"My dear I cannot leave you" And then the van took off

She stayed at home, dreading the call
"M'am, he's gone for good"
She curled up on her side of the bed
Sinking in; She's lost it all

Daisy, West Kirby Residential School

[Paula ward]

She looks to the skies and wonders ,

How he was at the end .

Was he scared, when he went under?

Did he have to defend ?

 

Was he tired, or sick or in pain?

Did he see the great bomb,

That ended his brief life in vain?

And now, her love is gone.

 

Is his young spirit resting now?

On the blood-stained war-ground?

How much torture did he allow,

Before he was shot down?

 

She thinks about all this and cries.

She cries the pain away.

How long is it until she dies?

She feels dead anyway.

Issy and Miranda,

Robert May's School