Mar 24, 2019
Home for Christmas
Simple soldier sodden, soil subterfuge.
Mound Masks massing missiles, crawl to craters huge.
Bullets, bombs, Britons, Bosch, salvos of shellfire in fugue.
Drafted, dismal, despondent, dirty and safe beneath deluge.
Dullard sailors musing portside strain for the further shore
Where marched kith and younger kin towards that dreaded war .
Bombs all day, of killing boys do the Germans never bore?
Not a chance for a Christmas win, as sworn in days of yore.