A penny for your thoughts my dear,
The words the old man said,
She looked at him,
Slight trace of smile,
Then bowed her pretty head.
And from her lips,
These words she spoke,
I miss you every day,
The loss of life is so unkind,
This war has had it's way.
She gazed upon the high stone wall,
A chill ran down her spine,
Names of men she never knew,
Lost to wars of time.
She'd spoken his name a thousand times,
But never dreamed she'd see,
His name etched on that cold grey wall,
The name she loved so dear.
And as she laid her poppies red,
She looked up to the sky,
The wrath of war will never end,
We'll always wonder Why?
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Comments about this poem (Precious Thoughts by Jayne Davies )
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