Posted on Nov.11th 2008 Armistice Day
In Memory of all the Irish Soldiers who were
killed or injured in The World War 1914 - 1918
including family members
' All The Boys'
Polished pride of place
The massive table, heart
Of the home, the only decent
Thing we ever bought.
Solid as a six year marriage
Set with a cloth at the sunny end
For tea. For two.
The rest littered with work,
A warm scarf half
Knitted, a stocking with a ladder.
Letters from the Front.
My pen, my paper,
“Dearest Harry….”
Nothing more.
A sodden handkerchief
My beads. Our picture.
And staring starkly back at me
A passion from Passchendaele
“…………….in action……..”
How can I fill this table,
Alone
Martin Swords
Jan 2006
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I'm half Irish - here in New York City the 69th is well remembered