1

I journeyed through valleys and over hills
I travelled my whole life searching for thrills.

I walked through forests and followed the star
from my humble doorstep I’ve wandered far.

I‘ve seen sunsets on fire that light the sky
white sand beaches where the palms grow so high.

I’ve seen the wild stag in dawn’s early light
dew covered flora magnificent sight.

I’ve crossed over deserts in scorching heat
sailed the world’s oceans and would not be beat.

Climbed snow covered mountains pack on my back
lived off the land there was nothing I lacked.

I followed the rivers and followed streams
the journey I’ve taken fulfilled my dreams.


2

The valleys were battlefields soaked in blood
nothing but horror souls drowned in the mud.

The forest was burning smoke filled the sky
I couldn’t see stars to be guided by.

My home is now rubble raised to the ground
I wander searching but peace can´t be found.

Red sunsets replaced with smoke blackened skies
war ravaged beaches where young men just die.

Oceans and deserts, just warships and tanks
guns on the high ground fire down on the ranks.

Rivers polluted fish dead from disease
they’ve killed all the wildlife cut down the trees.

This journey’s a nightmare of blood and screams,
War! So evil, it’s for peace that I dream.


3

I cast my eyes back from their autumn days
journey is over but memories stay.

I retrace and relive the sights I’ve seen
back through the forest as though in a dream.

Back to my home where I wish I had stayed
back to the junction where my choice was made.

Back with nature embraced in her splendour
choosing a path without any detour.

We all have a choice which path should we choose
we all choose the one with nothing to lose.

I chose goodwill, love and peace for mankind
t’was not the easiest path I could find.

The other path showed me what would have been
this second path war-torn, and so obscene.

When I was young and in my prime
a lad of seventeen
they sent me off to foreign climes
to serve my country and my King.

A fresh faced kid without a clue
naive to say the least,
lined up with comrades brave and true
to be the cannons feast.

They told us keep yer rifles clean
and keep yer powder dry
and when we charge don´t be afraid
just look em in the eye.

I can still recall that mournful sound
of the whistle blown at dawn,
it was up and over and into hell,
that´s where we went that morn.

All around us bodies fell
as we pushed on through the smoke,
bullet and shell were rained on us
and the stench of cordite made us choke.

A grenade explodes can´t hear a thing
body burning, shrapnel stings,
fell face down in the mud and gore
not wanting to die in this futile war.

So I´m on my feet and charging blind
to the sound of machine gun fire,
body disjointed from the mind
**** the sound of machine gun fire.

Another shell, this time it´s gas
and another fifty fall,
so far away from the marching bands
where we answered to the call.

Coughing and spewing from the cloud
that´s burning my insides,
lying in mud that is stained with blood
and there is no place to hide.

The screams and pleas from fallen men
being riddled with enemy fire,
slowly fade and drift away
from this field, this burning pyre.

I see the flash from the enemy’s gun
and I know it must be stopped,
I throw a grenade as I scale the mound
and in their trench I watched it drop.

The explosion loud lit up the sky
and showered all with dirt and stone,
the firing ceased the smoke it cleared
and I found myself alone.

This haunting place, this field of death,
this place that no young man should be,
amongst the bodies of his friends
this sight will always stay with me.

How I survived I´ll never know
but I do know this for sure,
the way to peace I'm telling you
is not through some ****** war.

Now in my armchair next the fire
with haunting memories by the score
and a (thank you for your service)
worthless medal in the drawer.

As soon as they used
the morphine word
I knew the end was near,
and yet…

I never said the things
I should have said
to my father dear,

and when I think
about him now
I can clearly hear him say

you did not have to say it son,
I knew………..along the way*.

Through the mist I caught his eye
a majestic beast was he,
stood firm and proud his head held high
his fearless stance for all to see.

I dared not move just held his gaze,
held my breath for fear he´d run,
with staring eyes he stood unfazed
in this stand-off he knew he´d won.

As I backed up he turned away
slowly fading from my sight,
was it a dream or real that day
in the misty morning light*.

On ill fated winds
came the sound of Guns,

Guns that took millions
of lives so Young,

Young were the boys
fresh from mother’s Arms,

Arms that now yearn
for a million lost Sons,

Sons who will never
live till they´re Old,

Old... as those ill fated winds.

A few clouds drift lazily across a pure blue sky
and a scorching sun sends sleeping dogs in search
of shaded bed-spaces somewhere under the trees.

Washing long dried hangs limp on the garden lines
waiting to be taken in by mothers who are sitting in
the cool indoors shucking peas into a bowl.

The local tradesmen have been and gone, having
delivered their orders of milk bread and groceries all
is now quiet in our sleepy midday Hampshire home.

The dusty lane that goes through the village is only
a bike ride down to the creek, saddle bags crammed
with sandwiches towels and swimming trunks.

The afternoon´s are spent swinging from a rope which
had been tied high in a tree over hanging the creek
letting go and splashing into the cool clear water below.

The excited screams and laughter ring out loudly across
golden fields of corn throughout the long hot summer,
a million miles and fifty-five years from where I am now*.