Local author Jean Hill who is also a member of the Wokingham Library Poetry Writing Group has written this poem at a time when we are all reflecting upon the lives that were lost during the Great War a hundred years ago.
BEIGE COLOURED DAYS
Wetly glistening, the stone, I trace
Your name with gnarled and blue-veined hands
Mottled white finger tips read the letters
On the memorial – this monument to madness
To my beige coloured days and tears unshed
“Wait for me”
You said, you said
Amid soddened poppies, the brass-band plays
And I hear echoes of the village carousel
Where horses grazed in fields now violated
With urban sprawl and shopping malls
I hold fast to my one silvered thread
I was once loved
You said, you said
You went the day the sun shone through
A misty dawn when the birds still sang
And church bells pealed their evensong
And wheat fields fanned with golden blush
When sun-sets gloried tones of red
“I’ll come back, we’ll wed”
You said, you said
A boy to adventure not understanding
In jaunty cap and hair shorn short
Village lads together, the Pals Brigade
With boots that sparked on cobbled stones
Over by Christmas, with Jerries fled
“Marching home victorious”
You said, you said
Your letters came with foreign stamps
Anguish between each censored line
My fresh-faced beau of tender years
God comfort you in the shadow of death
Give us this day, our daily bread
And prayers for you
I said, I said
Up the rutted lane the post-man came
Worn sombre face and cycle-clips
In his hand the yellow telegram
And time stood still while my heart raced
Numbed with grief – no tears to shed
“A reply?” – “No reply”
I said, I said
And so the start of my beige coloured days
The greyness of torment in years to come
No surrendered virginity – no bright horizon
I cry for children I would have borne
I weep for the life we could have led
“I’ll wait for you”
I said, I said
By Jean Hill
Jean Hill from the Wokingham Library Poetry Group has written a poem to make you smile: