PoetBay.com, the poetry webpage where you can publish your poems and short stories

A PHOTOGAPH (WORLD WAR ONE)

Among the photographs a book of World War One
Was a pitcher of a young British soldier
So, so young , his hair , clean , fresh whispery
In the gentle breeze , that was blowing that day

As I looked , I saw he had no face , Cleaved off
By a sharp piece of shrapnel
As I look on , I saw , that all was left , was his hair
His head was just a lump of flesh , his body , if you call it such
All was missing below his ribs
Was mangled , no butcher would treat a body so
His head laid to one side , if you can call ''it'' a head

I wonder about him , his life before he marched off to war
Did he have a girl , maybe he had a wife , with his chilldren
Back home? A mum , a dad , brother , sister , back home
In Blighty?

How badly they must taken the news of his death
Did he have a gave , fore them to visit , lay flowers?
Or did , his mortal remains , vanish in the mud , the slime
Of that battlefield , or lay beneath the sod , with a slab of Portland Stone
With an Unknown British Soldier , known to God

His hair , was pour , untouchable , even by death on the battlefield

Ken D Williams

The Dyslexic Wordsmith

Poetry by ken d williams