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The Bronze Soldier

Posted by threeleafshamrock on December 8, 2009 - 01:35
from the ABC set The Words of War

The rain ran like a veil from the peak of his bronze cap.

His face did not seem stern; just...young.
I could discern no animation in his expression.
The sculptor, crafted no madness,
no determination, no sorrow;
only innocence!

He stood at ease, his rifle
held loosely away from him,
as he looked into the distance.
I found myself following his gaze.

He stared out to sea, toward Dover's white walls;
at his feet, had been placed a wreath of red poppies.

The angry waves exploded all around.
Amidst the screeching of the gulls,
I chanced I heard a whistle blow...

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Comments

kheldar | December 8, 2009 - 11:48

Great atmosphere, the last verse is brilliant

threeleafshamrock | December 8, 2009 - 15:41

Thanks very much Kheldar, nice to see a new name; appreciate you taking the time ;)

Chris

Nathan Bednarek | December 8, 2009 - 17:36

Very atmospheric. Enjoyed.

Nathan.

threeleafshamrock | December 8, 2009 - 18:21

Thanks Nathan ;)

Silver Spun Sand | December 8, 2009 - 19:31

Great stuff, Chris. You are in fine form;-)

Tina XX

threeleafshamrock | December 8, 2009 - 22:01

Thanks Tina, it's great to be back

MistakenMagic | December 9, 2009 - 09:29

'His face did not seem stern; just...young.
I could discern no animation in his expression.
The sculptor, crafted no madness,
no determination, no sorrow;
only innocence!'

- brilliant, brilliant stanza Chris! Your war poems are always so wonderful and atmospheric!

Magic xxx

threeleafshamrock | December 10, 2009 - 13:18

Thanks Bex, hoped a fellow history nerd and WW1 nut, would like this...hope you get some wonderful news for Christmas; I might even watch the boat race and cheer for Oxford ;) XXXX