Under 'military history'
I found a tome of irony
A text once penned in heat of passion
Of hope and war and lover's ration
No embossed title, No woven spine
But still an epic, still so fine
While men lay squalid in their trenches
Someone perched upon these benches
A happy author with pocket knife
Whose words outlived his cut down life
Two fleeted lovers in this place
Recorded war's old tragic face
And carved there by 'The First World War'
'John loves Mary 1944.'
Apr 26, 2010
Apr 26, 2010 at 2:46 PM UTC
Under 'military history'
I found a tome of irony
A text once penned in heat of passion
Of hope and war and lover's ration
No embossed title, No woven spine
But still an epic, still so fine
While men lay squalid in their trenches
Someone perched upon these benches
A happy author with pocket knife
Whose words outlived his cut down life
Two fleeted lovers in this place
Recorded war's old tragic face
And carved there by 'The First World War'
'John loves Mary 1944.'