World War Two Poems

So I left you, dearest England

With a mind chaotic; rent

By a fate that knew no mercy;

Wondering if her rage was spent....

Life, who gave her shining splendours

To a humble mortal, then

Sent that mortal hurtling earthwards

To her place ‘mongst weary men.

Did you think you foolish woman

You could chain such ecstasy?

Don’t you know the food of angels

Ne’er was meant for common clay

Now with quiet mind I’m drifting

Humbly, daring not to dream.

Waiting. What may lie before me

Will come; be I fretful, or serene.

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