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Monday, 18 November 2013

To Mother

By Thomas Moore

They asked me where I want to be
Iraq, I said, and duly went,
to join my mates and Regiment.
You asked how could I be so mad,
I say it’s you I find so sad.
If crime it was the guilt and blame,
lies with the authors of the game.
Here the killing ground is live
and death the players doth divide,
while children cry and mothers weep,
I did my best the peace to keep,
I lived with courage and now sleep,
so ask your God, my soul to keep.

[INVITATION: All elders, 50 and older, are welcome to submit stories for this blog. They can be fiction, non-fiction, poetry, memoir, etc. Please read instructions for submitting.]

Posted by Ronni Bennett at 05:30 AM | Permalink | Email this post


What a touching and thoughtful poem for the Veterans Day season. The last sad four lines tell so much, but I can't forget those who have survived, so terribly wounded. When we we ever quit war?

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