The morning sun silvered the poplar leaves

Somewhere others lay in the cut clay 

waiting

And I smelt the sea’s dead things

As I walked. 

Kelp, razor shells, crabs, limpets

School friends swam and laughed in sandy craters

And there I was walking

By Goat's Water, the Old Man looking down

As he had for all my life 

And all those other lives before

The smell of wet bra...

Read and leave comments (5)

It isn't just the war dead that I remember on Remembrance Sunday. I often think about the instigators of war: the self-aggrandising politicians who drag nations into conflict, the incompetent commanders safe behind the front line while the troops go to their deaths. Can they live lives untroubled by the carnage they caused? Or do the ghosts of the dead come back to haunt them for their crimes?

...

Read and leave comments (3)

My uncle, Ernest Valentine Venner, Lieutenant: The Rifle Brigade, has a grave that is marked, but many 

who served and died do not, and these lines from 2014...the 100th anniversary of the start of WW1...are intended to mark and maintain their memory.

................................................................................................................

Read and leave comments (5)