We left. It was the time of lush green.
Deciduous trees sucking moisture to their leaves.
It was the way. It was England’s way.
Soon another season would demand.
Those trees forced to trade sap and goodness for
the dryness that always came with autumn colour.
Bronzed, they lost their tentative hold fluttered to the earth,
the carpet deep and crisp, deadening footsteps that tramped among them.
We left. Engines leaving trails of white.
The deep azure sky streaked as we soared towards the east.
We left. Not alone but in our thousands.
A common purpose duty it was our duty.
Were we not convinced of that?
Now those footsteps were no longer softened.
The parched earth transferred its sun-baked surface upwards
through each step boots symmetrical patterns imprinted
to guide those who followed.
We left. Those who loved us pining.
No time for us to ponder no time to reflect.
It was our time.
One by one our numbers dwindled.
Each day saw that happen.
Our band of brothers less and less we saw we knew we tried our best.
We left. The pals the men who cared.
We watched as the arid earth soaked their blood.
We watched when the light faded from their eyes.
Then we took. We took their souls we strengthened our own.
It was right. It was what they would have wanted.
This poem is dedicated to all British soldiers serving in Afghanistan.
Todays best new poem was written by Brian W Fisher.
Share this poem and/or leave a reply below..
An Email or website address is not required to reply.
However, choosing not to give an Email address will make it impossible for me to contact you if you are chosen to recieve a money/cash prize.