A SHILLING FROM HIS PAY

.

When poppy seeds and sweetheart’s tears,

Are falling till the May;

Then who’ll replace the young men,

Who have fallen in the fray?

Will young men’s eyes be passion filled?

Bright lit by lies absurd,

Oh, what’s a young man left to do,

When truth is bled and blurred?

.

When sweetheart tears are wetting pad,

As pen goes on its way;

They’re sonnets bound for sweethearts

In their little homes of clay,

Will hearts be bitter, filled with woe?

When pain will blur her eyes,

What’s a young maid left to do?

When politicians lie?

.

The blanket shroud he sleeps in,

A shilling from his pay;

For politicians, profiteers,

Must live another day.

But who can count the petals,

As they flutter to the earth,

When sweethearts lose their young men,

To the sounds of claret mirth.

.

British Army practice 1/- (one shilling) deduction cost of the fallen soldier’s burial blanket.

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ANTI-WAR POETRY OF MICHAEL WALSH