World War Two Poems

Where are you, who long years ago

Plunged in the screaming flames to a hideous death,

And dragged my seared soul in agony with you

That cannot now crawl out from ‘neath you shade?

Give back my heart - I owe it to another

Who little recks the worthless husk he holds!

Oh, loose me dear sweet love, and let me breath

The air without your all pervading scent.

But you are dappled sunshine, in the forest -

And you are bluebell hue on an English hill -

And you are every joyous note the skylark

Drops like glistening pearls, by mill-pond rill.

The laugh of merry youth is as your laughter.

The young and sensitive poem, recalls you name.

My scornful words regarding a hereafter

You mock; whisper you’ll be there just the same.

Whisper in the dripping black of evening -

When a shadow mingles living souls and dead;

Whisper in the spangled dews of morning,

And even the flowers, startled raise their heads.

Echo it in your little son’s proud mien -

Flash it in his eves - your eyes - oh how

Could he who never saw you learn so faithfully

To copy you in a hundred ways - oh how?

What was it fled from your sweet self,

So young and strong, and bright?

What vital thing, that a Nazi bullet

Crushed on that screaming night?

What was it? - (your limbs were whole they said,

Your face composed, serene)

What awful thing ignored my tears

And stealthily fled, unseen?

And Fled - the very essence of you,

To return of it’s separate self,

And flavour the whole of living day

And night, and life itself.

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2.

TO A DAFFODIL 1952

Oh listen lovely daffodil

Gracing my poor windowsill

Far away I saw you nod

Long ago, we talked with God.

Do you remember the slanted beams

Of sunlight, glorious as my dreams?

Do you recall the soft green grass

When I - and someone else did pass?

Your graceful trumpet answer “no”

With a shattering silence echoes

My own words “green grass” and “beams”

“Dreams” “dreams” “dreams” did pass “did pass”

Could I but curl up small and creep

deep into your golden heart -

In deep forgetfulness to sleep,

And with your spring scent never part.

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