Time to look ahead, and see beauty in the fore,
time to look at pebbles laced with tracks of white,
pink shells,
black peppered sand and more.

Time to turn around and see water, greenish grey.
Time to stand in this place, of over sixty before.
Time to thank my God who helped me keep my life.
Time to ask the question: "Father why is War still rife"?

Not here, now, I know,
but blood is still mixed with sand,
not least upon the Holy Land.

Has it been just one huge battle?
I know you fought your corner,
I know you have support,
but did the devils of this world defeat the Holy Court?

There's time for me to feel the breeze
and feel warm tears on my cheek.

I see my brothers here as they had lain,
those long, long years ago.

This world does give us all such joy,
but people give us war.

Poetry by various contributors

benmayla

23.11.09 Front Page

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