We shall never forget.

They lie not in that empty grave
Beneath the foreign sod.
They do not lie forgotten
In that cold, and desolate Land of Nod.

Soldier Boy … Solider Boy,
The trumpets blast, and blare;
And wreaths are laid at the Cenotaph,
To show … that we still care.

But … there’s a greater love than Man’s
Who knows the price you paid.
He spared you the indignity,
And lifted you from that cold, cold grave.

He created a Great Celestial Shrine,
And the moment it was done …
With a gentle hand, placed the Valiant heart,
Of each dear Mother’s son.

Soldier Boy … Solider Boy,
Under Dutch blue skies,
The gentle Breeze of Holland …
Kiss your grave … as they pass by.

Written by  Earl Doucette

I could not find anything about Earl Doucette apart from the fact that he was Canadian.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This  is a beautiful poem. It speaks of God, whatever name  you give him/her, lifting all the dead soldiers from their cold or hot and bloodied graves all over the world and  in all times past and future and even present. He takes  them to Heaven ..whatever name you have for heaven. It is a comfort to us all, for the violent deaths and hurried burials that soldiers on the battle theatres  of war received. It troubles us all and so we have these poems to salve our consciences and please our tender souls .

We all have Remembrance Days but this is a way of saying they got a greater remembrance. I shall say no more you have all heard my feelings on War .

Lest we forget. Rememberance Sunday 2020.

Today is the nearest Sunday to Remembrance Day  here in  the UK . Because of Covid 19 the Veterans will not be Marching. Also we will not forgetting all those men and women injured and killed in more recent conflicts.

I  thought I  would  remember  the  women  for  WW1  and  WW2 who  took over  all  the  jobs  that the  men  who  had  been  sent  off  to  war  left  empty here in what  was  known then as  Great  Britain.

Not  only  did  the  women  do  these  , sometimes  very  dangerous  jobs but  they  looked after  the families  and  homes. Now  I  do  not  wish in  any  way  to  detract  from  the huge  sacrifice  of  all the  men  who  fought  for  our countries during  the  two  wars .

d8552036f3202261b6105c6ce5442594

Remember the women left back home.

They made the ammunition for Tommy

Dangerous work,they died too it was not funny.

Women became officers of the law

Something never heard of before.

Nurses, drivers  even pilots for planes

Remember  them  we  will never  know  their  names

Someone had to give  the  farmers a hand

Remember   the men  were  at war  in a  foreign  land.

The members  of  the ” fairer  sex ”

Drove  the  buses, trains  and  lorries

Kept  all essential job going , however  complex

They  also  fed  the family  and kept  the Home Fires  Burning

twr_crop__homeb1_iwm-q30040-shell-factory-uk-40-iwm_ipad

During  the  wars ww1 and  ww2  women filled  in the  gaps  that  the  men  who  had  been sent  off  to  war  left. It  is  not  always  remembered  that  they worked in  the factorys  drove  buses trains and flew  planes and  probably  sailed  ships.  They  became  members  of  the  forces, nurses at  home  and on the  war  front  too. They  were  also  seconded into  the police  these  jobs  were almost unheard of  for  women before  the  first  world war. They  also  had  to do hard  farm labour  on  the farms to help keep  the  food  supplies  going.

Women worked in  shipyards, built  planes  and  also  made  ammunition, hard  and  dangerous  work.

It  was not just  the   fact  that the  bombs , shells or  landmines  could  explode  if  mishandled  but  the  TNT  was  dangerous  to  the  women’s  health.

” Munitions workers whose job was filling shells were prone to suffer from TNT poisoning. TNT stood for Trinitrotoluene – an explosive which turned the skin yellow of those who regularly came into contact with it. The munitions workers who were affected by this were commonly known as ‘canaries’ due to their bright yellow appearance. Although the visible effects usually wore off, some women died from working with TNT, if they were exposed to it for a prolonged period. As Ethel Dean, who worked at Woolwich Arsenal, recalled, ‘Everything that that powder touches goes yellow. All the girls’ faces were yellow, all round their mouths. They had their own canteen, in which everything was yellow that they touched… Everything they touched went yellow – chairs, tables, everything.’ (IWM SR 9439More  imformation  here

Women did  so many  jobs that  before  the  first  world  war, those of  the middle  and  higher class would  never  even  contemplated. Many  died of  injury  and  of  disease  due  to  chemicals,  asbestos  used in  badly  ventilated  buildings.

Also  they played  their  part in  SOE   read here   and also  here  .

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womenswork6
world-war-two-these-four-women-of-the-waaf-the-women-s-auxiliary-air-b3p4r0
women_at_work_during_the_first_world_war_q28345
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cloaks

All images  from  Google Images  women  at  war  ww1 and  ww2

And the Men

We sent them off to war,

These bright young men

We had no knowledge of what they saw,

They came home, bright young men no more .

Yes though brave they were no longer whole

Those that survived had no soul.

Many died,the lucky ones, death to them was kind.

Those who returned were faded in body and in mind.

Their loved ones at first relieved

Soon found they had much cause to grieve.

Though there, in body broken,

Their fears left unspoken

Their minds were left behind.

They went out whole, these bright young things.

They returned lost, holding on by gossimar strings

Taplow Court

They went full of pride for God and King

They ran head long into hell

On return they could not relinquish it’s spell.

So we had a nation of half men, half ghosts

Fearful, their heads still had them at their posts.

The trenches and the blasts of bombs, the smell of death

Clung to them and bled them dry, the whole in body, the blind of eye

The amputee, it was as if they had never left.

We sent them off to war,

These bright young men

We had no knowledge of what they saw,

They returned, bright young men no more.

SONY DSC

Paintings by William Rothenstein.

Treacle Part 2

A splatter of mud hits Treacle on the snout, followed by another, sailing above overhead.

Splat!

 Onto the pressed white shirt of Sixlegs.

“Treacle!”

Wot in butt-lickin’ hell?

As two small muddy fourlegs scramble up from the pooping pipe hole and trot towards him, crossing the High Street and dangerously dodging roundlegs.

Hi ho Treacle, snifz yuz Treacle! yaps Smudge, who lives with hindlegs in a right proper house den.

Yo, blind doggy, snifz yuz adds Mouse, a daft streetlegs who tags along with any fourlegs wotz out walkies.

I’m not blind yer butt-lickin’ muttwit, that’s him Treacle starts for the thousandth time wotz behind, lyk

Thwack

The roundlegs catches Mouse and sucks him underneath, brakes squealing, Jemmapackmate screaming, fourlegs barking.  Mouse tumbling over and over beneath the roundlegs and spitting out behind.

I’m okay, I’m okay Mouse squeals, staggering in the road, snapped legs attempting to carry him towards Treacle.

“nowlookhereTreacle,what’sthehoohaa?”

Mouse sinks onto his snout. 

I’m okay, real-

Continue Reading at Source at the Usual Muttwits.

The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS Oct. 3/2020

Shelley Krupa

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “new/old.” Use either or both of the words “new and old” any way you’d like. Bonus points for starting and ending with either one. Have fun!

News hit my email that made me sad. Though it was not other than my I might of expected yet I am railing against it. Nothing new, age old it’s the circle we all go through no one and nothing lives forever.

I tossed and turned and in my dreams I was lost on a journey on a train. Again nothing new about that, it seems I am forever lost. I awoke ever hour on the hour, same old scared feeling. Life goes on until it stops. None of this makes sense.

New Life brings new hope

Old nightmares retreat quietly

Souls never grow old.

******

This is part of LindaGHill’s Saturday Stream of Consciousness.

Sue Vincent’s #writephoto Serenity. 4/9/20

This week’s prompt ~ Serenity

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a blue-lit landscape, land and calm water mirroring the cloudy, silver-lit sky.

My feet are cold, but I am past caring there is nothing left for me here. I step forward water rises up my legs, it’s no longer cold. My dress billows and the silver light touches my face. I am no longer tired, the pain is lifted from me as if I am cutting the ties that bind me. I move even further from the shore my steps unsteady now as the water reaches my chest. I am warm, I am rested I am happy. I slip beneath the waves and all I see is blue , as I look up I see the last of the silver light in the sky.

All of a sudden he is there his long red hair, his blue eyes and his beautiful silver fish tail. Wrapping me in his arms around me he whispers, “I told you I would wait for you, all you had to do was come to me.”

In the ICU the doctor shook his head , “We’ve lost her” he said, “Time of death 21.27″…the long whistle of the machine stopped as he turned it off leaving the low but determined beeps of the other patient’s machines in the background.

Her assigned nurse said quietly, “She really tried she kept on fighting, why did she just give up like that?” The team looked at her in silence then one of them said, “She looks amazing, there is a real aura of serenity about her”

This is part of Sue Vincent’s Thursday Photo Prompt #writephoto

Ronovan Writes (TIP) This week, it’s the D rhyme line.

Ronovan Writes Decima Challenge Image

For this week’s challenge, the word TIP must be one of the line words. Then the other line(s) word(s) must rhyme with TIP. I have also used the prompt words from Ronovanwrite’s Weekly Haiku Challenge Morrow and Surge.

Welcome to the Décima Poetry Challenge. Each week we’ll be attempting a Décima, also known as an Espinela, poem.

If you don’t know how to write a Décima, click HERE to go to a post on How to Write an Espinela or Décima Poem.

This is part of Ronovanwrite’s Décima Challenge

Image from Pixabay

We only get once chance at life
Sadly time is not infinite
This is true though it might sound trite
Why face the morrow filled with strife.
The pens of fate our lives rewrite.
In the morn all our fears will serge
Our hopes and dreams begin to merge.
Over the edge our feelings tip
As into the abyss we slip.
We all dance to Lucifer’s dirge.

Apocalypse Now?

What a state this world is in. We have a dying planet, choked up with emissions, and strangled with plastic and waste. Now I am sure the four Horsemen of the Apocalypse are here. I wrote the poem / story below some years ago. I thought things were bad then yet nothing has improved infact it’s worse. So I have revamped the story today!

IS IT REALLY  TOO LATE? 

Time was late, the day was cold  the doors of the coffee shop suddenly flew apart

The scene  from the street was enough to stop your heart.

Four horse men

Slowly and silently approached along the street.

No one could of known, this was the place they had assigned to meet.

As this strange apparition  it’s progress did make,

It left fights and hunger and  deathly illness in it’s wake.

Where once was the  normal order of life

Was suddenly killing and gorging, sickness, death and strife.

Stopping their horses and dismounting as one

They found a spare lamp post their magnificent animals to leash upon.

One of their number scanned the street “No parking meters ….sweet”

They entered the coffee shop and two fights broke out

And terrible hunger and thirst spread about.

Terrified customers died in the rush for the door

People started to sicken with rashes and pustules and what’s more there was blood and guts all over the floor.

Death motioned the others to get a table

As he addressed the barista, a sickly lad  and ordered “four Americanos and a bagel!”

The boy felt so weak as he looked in to the eyes of Death fear gripped his throat

The rest of his staff were in the same boat lost and helpless’ bereft of hope!

Setting down the tray and handing Famine his food,

“I wanted espresso “griped War in a mood.

Death raised his scythe and told him to mind his place.

For he had the last  word and was in charge of this space!

Finally with the local humans all dead

They sipped quietly on their coffee, just for now doing what their leader had said.

After a short while Conquest / Pestilence looked up

And asked “is this coffee fair trade” as he finished his cup.

Famine smirked at the joke his brother had made.

“I need another , where is the barista ”  Death answered ” He died”…… “Okay” Famine sighed

Coffee over, decisions needed to be  made

How to deal with this world’s problem. Plans had to be laid.

“I think I should simply traverse this world

And make them their missiles unfurl,”

Said War before adding “with you,  Death in my wake,

How long would total annihilation  take?”

“No “chipped in Pestilence I can spread  my cloak and make them all suffer.

I have a new toy Corvid 19

It favours the old and sick , it very keen.

You can then step in Death, as they choke  and splutter.”

War banged the table ready to fight

But Death stepped in knowing his way was right .

Looking around brothers do you not agree

They are doing an excellent job of destroying themselves without any help from you or me.”

He saw they were not happy with his interventions

So he enlightened them all with ghastly intentions .

“We need to just hover on the sidelines and leave them to fester.

It will all end soon, this planet cannot sustain forever these hopeless jesters!

They thought for a while while Death entertained them, with his  fiddle

Like Nero back when Rome was burning. but not such  giggle.

The decision was made and they all agreed

They would just make thing worse for all those in need .

They would feed the wars and starve the medical fractions,

Of knowledge and money.

They would disease the corn the milk and the honey.

Death would stalk the world in his usual way

Clearing up the mess and dead at the end of the day.

They then  left the scene of their destroying powers

Riding  off together into the west leaving death and destruction and lots of wilting flowers .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The News papers and TV got the story the very same day.

“Police want to question four hoodies on horse back ” they say.

There is  a witness a child who manage to hide and lived to tell what they had seen.

Apparently strange horses, one white,one red, one black and one pale green?

This  made the  headlines  all over, for a day, well maybe one day more

Then it is back to Famine and  Plague in Africa and  the States and UK to step into  yet another War!

The Greens are screaming we must save Mother Earth

Unknowing that she already dancing  a dirge with Death.

.

Death sat in a corner and polished his scythe and pondered the meeting that morning,

Well he had at least tried to buy these humans ( for whom he actually cared) some time .

But even holding off his brothers, of hope there still was no sign.

He was tired of all the work he had to do,

Exhausted in fact, and his brothers were too.

The task set before them was too great for them to solve ..

Hopefully God will intervene and those irritating humans will evolve  !

As the Apocalyptic quartet rode off claiming souls

They were laughing at humans all bulk buying toilet rolls.

All that paper won’t help them survive

With plague’s new new virus, no amount of loo roll will keep them alive.

Thursday photo prompt: Chill #writephoto

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a landscape wearing a light dusting of snow. From the hill, where skeletal heather and brown grasses pierce the snow, a valley spreads out below, lit by the rays of a pale sun.

After the noise of the battle earlier the silence cut like a knife. The snow was doing a good job of covering the dead and dying. From nowhere came silver rays from the sun bathing the valley in an almost gentle way.

It seemed almost impossible that only at dawn she had stood on the horizon looking toward the castle wondering what was to come. There had been no snow or cold when she had arrived. The witches still held sway over the climate around the castle. Yet as she had stood in the early morning warmth wondering about her future she had felt the temperature drop and seen the white of the Vampire winter approaching.

Realising there was no time to waste she ran to the castle altering those within to the incoming danger. Not bothering to morph from wolf to human she bounded up the stairs howling. She halted at the sight of Ewan, relieved to see he was back to his old irritating self! He confirmed this by patting her head. ***********

The men, dwarves and elves were ready, Rachel told Ewan that the warewolves were on their way. Everything was set and ready, the battle was nigh.

The snow and ice covered the ground silently, it didn’t fall from the sky it was just there. The temperature plummeted, the men’s breath frosted their beards as they saddled their horses, the dwarves drew their cloaks about them against the cruel wind, their axes glinting in the pale morning light. The elves lined the turrets their quivers full of wooden arrows tipped with silver.

The men on horses rode out across the draw bridge and lined up outside the castle in a phalanx the others formed a line infront of then with their spears and weapons raised. Not one of these brave men had ever fought vampires before. The dwarves were ready inside the gates singing and banging drums. The women, children and the old were all inside the castle praying to their gods . Alicia, Lisa and Rachel stood on the ramparts with the elves.

Then of a sudden a whispering, a screaming, a moaning carried across the valley and up the hill towards the castle. “They are here” shouted Alicia, “where” shouted the men. Too late they were upon them , bodies flew around, and were torn apart, men’s and horse’s hearts ripped out and thrown upon the ground. The vampires were invisible they picked the men off simply and cruelly. Within minutes men lay dead and dying, disemboweled, quartered some just drained of blood.. The elves fired into thin air and many arrows met their mark, revealing the evil vampires, writhing and screaming as they caught on fire then turned to dust.

Not a man was left standing not one survived the carnage. All the while the vampires fill the air with their screams and threats.

Hope stirred in her cot, she visualised the Vampire hoards and broke their veil of invisibility. The Elves took aim and fired their arrows up into the sky from where they rained down on the the enemy. The dwarves now came into their own as each vampire swooped at them they used their honed weapons to decapitate as many as they could. Sadly the dwarves took heavy losses.

Lisa and Alicia felt Hope’s power and they joined with her willing the sun to shine at its brightest and hottest. Slowly their powers joined and the warmth in the sun turned into heat. The elves could see the younger vampires crawling up the castle walls and taking advantage of the light they shot at them mercilessly. Rachel looked out to the plains where she saw that the hoards of Vampires were still massing. All was lost how could they cope how could the beat these numbers? The humans barring the women, children and old all dead, all gone. The Dwarves were valiantly holding the castle but for how much longer!

Then a miracle happened the Vampires began to feel the effects of the sun.. they began to burn, black dust from them coated the snow. Their war screams turned to wails of anguish and pain as they died.

The order from the ancients went up R

“Retreat, Retreat” and soon the sky was full of retreating and burning vampires.

After the noise of the battle earlier the silence cut like a knife. The snow was doing a good job of covering theb dust and human dead and dying. From nowhere came silver rays from the sun bathing the valley in an almost gentle way. The heat was gone and the cold had returned. The vampires had gone for now they would be back at night.

Hope stirred in Lisa’s arms as her power subsided so did her mother’s and Alicia’s. “Sleep for now Hope my darling” whispered Lisa, ” they shall not have you” The child smiled in her sleep.

To be continued.

If you wish to read Lisa’s and Rachel’s story up to this point you can find it here.

This is part of Sue Vincent’s #writephoto.

Death Writes Life’s Poetry

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The room would appear to be empty and dark

But what is that, a scratching , scratching,  hark!

Slowly your eyes grow accustomed  to the lack of light

There in the corner is an old guy working,  a curious sight .

Who is this, who can it be ? It is Death ( in his civies ) writing  Life’s Poetry.

I almost feel sorry for the Reaper and I feel you should agree.

He is  exhausted by Life’s demands and quirks

He has to go out collecting the dead  but what irks

Is he has Life’s poems to write, so his times not free

Can you hear that shusshing sound, lets see what can that be …..

It’s  billions of egg timers  set out on shelves .

The sands of time running out for you and me.

I almost feel sorry for Reaper and you should agree.

He  is exhausted by life’s demands and quirks

He is always busy now writing poetry and collecting the  dead

And there’s  more’  for he now has an apprentice to teach and keep fed.

Don’ t you feel a pang of sympathy?

He holds the number’s of you and me.

There is never a moment when he can be free, not even time for hot cup of coffee.

Well he is very busy right now as we can see

And I think there is somewhere , anywhere  else that we should be.

I almost feel sorry for Reaper and I feel you should agree.

He exhausted my life’s demands and quirks

He has to go out collecting  the Dead  

He has to write  Life’s poetry.

Song Lyric Sunday: 17/11/19. Don’t.

This week Jim Adams our talented host for Song Lyric Sunday has said that this week’s prompt is : November 17, 2019 – Did/Didn’t/Do/Don’t/Does/Doesn’t.

This week Jim’s prompt for us set me in mind of my dear friend Karen who died of cancer of the osphagus. We were close friends, I was not long out if hospital having broken my back badly , for the second time, when I got the news from Karen that she was ill.

The reason I have chosen Don’t stop me now by Queen will become apparent at the end of this post.

Don’t Stop Me Now” is a song by the British rock band Queen from their 1978 album Jazz and released as a single in 1979. Written by lead singer Freddie Mercury, it was recorded in August 1978 at Super Bear Studios in Berre-les-Alpes (Alpes-Maritimes), France, and is the twelfth track on the album. More information here.

I hope no one minds me making this so personal but this is Karen’s song.

To Karen

❤
❤
❤
❤

Karen

I rang her every day for over a year,

I begged to come see her but she would not let me near.

We laughed with each other but more often we cried.

I wanted to be with with her but her fears, this to me denied.

I begged her to fight it she told me she was tired

I nagged and bullied she said I was fired!

Things never got better she slipped from my grasp

I tried hard to see her but she still refused, so I did as she asked.

Then finally the day came and I got the call

At last I got to visit , not that she knew at all.

I talked of blue skies and beaches and clouds

I did not whisper I told her out loud.

She was struggling for breath then I caught her eye in a moment of clarity

I told her I  loved her she flashed at me   “no pity!”

Her hands were dirty her nails were lined black

Her pain and the squalor are the memories that keep coming back.

I spent four days in her company

I could not believe what I had to see.

I hated  her suffering as she breathed her last,

Sadly these horrid memories stuck in my mind, the ones which I cannot get past.

It was a foggy freezing December day

When we all met at the Crematorium  our goodbyes to say.

To a larger than life, loud colourful girl

Who with a flash of her eyes could set our working day in a whirl.

I sat there sobbing but she had to have the last word

“Get a grip you silly cow” were the words that I heard.

Then as her coffin disappeared for her final bow

She went out  with  a flourish to Queen’s ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’.

Karen 1958 –  2010

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