D Day – Four Score On
A turbulent
sea and shell fire and fear,
Foundering
vessels with quailing young men
Grim tides
of war brought to the beach: and then,
These
remaining mark the eightieth year,
Honouring
those who had eighty years stolen
That day, so
many liberated from life,
So few now,
comrades who’re left with their grief,
For long
gone mates lost among the fallen.
Much better
there be barefoot children
Building sand
castles along that beach
Pounded by
army boots directed to reach
Concrete
bunkers full of desperate men,
Just like
the ones dying to get ashore,
Divided by
flags they’d give their lives for.
D. A.
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