I feel a bit silly now
There's something I've been writing since the spring but it needs tidying up, i think it may be ready for November.
You know when you read a sad poem, or hear a sad song for the first time, it sometimes brings a lump to your throat or even a tear to your eye? Well, that's what's been happening to me when I've had a line or just a few words flash into my head. There's even been occasions that friends have asked if I'm ok.........i tell them I'm trying to write something and they think I'm mad. I've wondered, that if just writing it has that affect on me, what the reader will feel.
It's the thoughts of a man who is standing on the high street waiting for his soldier son., it's called 'Wooton'.
Anyway.......this is one of my favourite poems.
The Box
Once upon a time in the land of Pushable
AROUND about the wondrous days of yore
They came across a sort of box
Bound up with chains and locked with locks
And labeled "Kindly Do Not Touch, it's WAR"
A decree was issued round about
AND all with a flourish and a shout
And a GAILY colored mascot TRIPPING lightly on BEFORE
"don"t fiddle with this deadly box
"or break the chains or pick the locks
"And please, don't ever play about with war"
Well the children understood
children happen to be good
they were just as GOOD around the time of yore
they didn't try to pick the locks
or break in to that deadly box
they never tried to play about with war
Mommies didn't either
sisters, aunts, grannies neither, cuz
They were quiet, sweet and pretty in those wondrous days of yore
Well..very much the same as now
Not the ones to blame somehow
for opening up that deadly box of war.
But someone did,
Someone battered in the lid
and spilled the insides out across the floor
A sort of bouncy bumpy ball, made up of guns and flags and all the tears and
horror and the death, that goes with war.
It bounced right out and went bashing all about
And bumping into everything in store
and what was sad and most unfair
Is that it didn't really seem to care much who it bumped
Or why, or what, or for.
It bumped the children mainly
And I'll tell you this quite plainly
It bumps them every day and more, and more
And leaves them dead and burned and dying
Thousands of them sick and crying
CAUSE when it bumps
it's really very sore
Now there's a way to stop the ball
it isn't difficult at all
all it takes is wisdom
I'm absolutely sure that
We can get the ball back in the box
And bind the chains
And lock the locks
no one seems to want to save the children any more
Well that's the way it all appears
CAUSE IT'S been bouncing round for years and years
in spite of all the wisdom whiz since those wondrous days of yore
in the time they came across the box
bound up with chains and locked with locks
and labeled "Kindly do not touch, "IT'S WAR"
(Kendrew Lascelles)
