War Dead
As the sun sets tremulous,
The carrion church wardens,
Shadowy paradoxes, stand sentinel.
The pale eyed dead look on silent
At this memorial to conflict.
These stark floral tributes;
Wreaths woven in blood red
These poppies of sacrifice,
To the slaughter of wars past.
They do not glorify war.....no,
But honour the long dead.
(in memoriam Rupert Brooke)
P H Brookes Copyright 2011
poem by Paul Brookes
Added by Poetry Lover
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