How soon the dawn


When is the dawn?

How soon the dawn?

When skeletal forms

Of blasted splintered leafless trees

Loom from the gloom of of a misty morning

When will the sun stretch his warming hand

Over this ghastly blasted land

But -

There's a part of me

Doesn't want to see

What's out there instead of the beauty

That once was France.

And now it seems that night has won

There's no sign or loom of the morning sun

And if the dawn, exhausted, won't deign

To appear, and from now, darkness should reign

And cloak forever, the land in its pain,

I won't be sorry

For one.

© nigel hallworth 2014