Anthony Foster

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Best Poem of Anthony Foster

1066

The pale winter sun cast reflections from the wet winter grass,
When we walked down the slope past the brown runny bog,
Reflecting on the cries of men and knights running past,
Some falling wounded and dying in their desperate upward slog,

We toiled up the slope ourselves to the abbey at the crest,
Where in the summer of 1066 they waited for the Norman mass,
When they joined in the battle which for most of them led to death,
Which left the Normans life, the victory, the kingdom and the crown?

When we explored the storerooms, the dark corners and ...

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Ellen

When I first saw you in that hospital cot,
I knew you were very special,
Oh what joy what love what sheer delight,
You are a gift from God.