Welcome to my poetry pages. Enjoy your reads and
have many nice days ahead. Visit my web site at
www.webstarts.com/wchull
I link poetry.com in it.
Thank you for your visit.
In Other Fields Than Flanders
In other fields wild flowers grow,
There are no crosses row on row.
Mass graves are what from time to time
Turn up to show the killing kind
Of minds we have become.
Throughout all wars e'er fought by man
On sea or on some country's land,
Those senseless acts of death cling tight
To souls of those who'd never fight
A battle of their own.
In every field where slain lay
Wild flowers wait for judgment day
When killers will face murders done,
No second chance, no "paid for" guns
To loose them from their hell.
In other fields no flowers grow
To dance and sway as breezes blow -
The nameless rest - No crosses white -
They feel no sun - They know no night.
They lie in other fields.
W.C.Hull © 2001, 2009
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