W H Littlejohn Poems

Old rose and black and indigo,
Saffron streaks in a spume-tipped grey,
Purple, laved in the dawn's wan glow -
God, how fair you are, Suvla Bay!
...

Behold a table spread!
A battered corned-beef box, a length of twine,
An altar-rail of twigs and shreds of string.
...

Lord, if it be Thy will
That I enter the great shadowed valley that lies
Silent, just over the hill,
...

There is a green-lit hospital ship,
Green, with a crimson cross,
Lazily swaying there in the bay,
Lazily bearing my friend away,
...