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In their blood a nation raised
Before the yellow sun
tips the blade of long grass
Gently waving in the hand
Of not yet morning,
but not yet light
cliffs shimmer and shiver
of a memories journey
through offerings of life
cast in the utter horror
of the bloody
berth of a nation
Trembling deep earth ...
A lone poppy now stands firm
Before the silent throng
begins our Anzac morning dirge
I will stand in contemplation
Of the sacrifice made
In your blood
it is stained, tears rolled the page
Men, boys made into soldiers
fell, from great heights
to none, their red mourning
Lines each and every page
In giving all our tomorrow's
from their stolen life of light,
In a battle we were forever saved
as we tasted the iron badge
of defeat ...
This was the insanity of an age
long past, but still felt deep
far into the Never Never
God bless the Anzac spirit
in their blood a nation raised
a lone trumpet sings reveille
we mourn in perpetuity
their sacrifice never forgotten
this is a debt we can never repay
This was the birth of national identity
chasms of valleys hold their blood
so that we may walkabout
Free ...
----
Written in memory
on the morning
Of 25th April 2015
Jayne Eggins ©
Comments
raj
Fri, 2015-04-24 23:59
Dearest Jayne
Bravo! you continue to amaze me ..i liked this...even more after reading what you wrote "In last Few Words"
Good to see you back and posting..Take best care...
Much love and hugs,
raj (sublime_ocean)
Sparrow
Sat, 2015-04-25 10:31
Jayne
Lovely to see you here, I know this is a special subject for the hearts of the people that remember those that gave us what we have today,
(But young lady we wish to see many more of your writes in the future, so you make sure you are well enough to do so, or I will smack your fingers.)
The soldiers there at that horrible place gave their all, as you say for us to walk today.
I cannot forget those men and many others that gave all, as a generation of my family were involved in that war, my Father at this time was in Egypt, and one of my uncles was in Palestine, not so far away, He sleeps in Jerusalem.
Strange that the war then in 1914 - 1918 involved my family more than any other.
I remember them, Yours as always Ian xxx
.
Give critique to help keep Neopoet great.
Unconditional love to you all.
"Learn to love yourself first"
Yours as always, Ian.T, Sparrow, and Yenti
scribbler
Sat, 2015-04-25 15:53
Hi Jayne
Sorry to hear you're still not up to full speed. I'll have to read up on the battle before being much help but in the first stanza the last two lines seem to say the same thing. I think you're trying to describe that short interlude between fading night and full daylight. Maybe something like :
of fading night
but not yet light...............dang! that even makes a rhyme which could add a bit of extra impact to the stanza............Hope you get better soon..........stan
alidzain
Sun, 2015-04-26 13:41
Dear Jayne
this, to me is a poem with a powerfuI message. going to check on the story behind it.
Alid
emeka ozurumba
Mon, 2015-04-27 04:46
great narrative
beginning to understand this mourning , and freedom fighting, though without war there can be no peace