Ex Gefangener's Nightmare Poem by Andrew Wright

The village clock struck loud and clear,
It was the midnight chime,
The eerie howl of a dog was heard,
Through the hush of a winter clime,
The eyes of a cat shone brightly,
As it crouched like a beast of prey,
While the dew descended softly,
Ere the dawn of another day.

The silence was suddenly broken,
Like a bolt dropped from the blue,
For a door was stealthily opened,
And a figure appeared in view,
It was clothed in a snowy garment,
Like a wraith from another sphere,
With a step that made no murmur,
And a candle burning clear.

As the moon from a cloud came peeping,
We perceived it was a man,
Is it robbery, rape, or murder,
We guess at his evil plan,
With a pace that never falters,
He halts at a small, clear space,
And a grin of joy spreads quickly,
Upon the age-worn face.

A fire he quickly kindles,
That soon burns red and clear,
And a pot he places upon it,
The contents seem so queer,
Very soon the smell of frying,
Assails the morning air,
And crouching upon his haunches,
Our prowler consumes his fare.

But why this moonlight excursion,
Come, let us rake the past,
And seek to find a reason,
Before our scorn we cast,
It seems that in the World War,
A "Prisoner" he had been,
This, then must be a vigil,
Of days that once had been.

Then a voice cuts through the night,
From a window way on high,
"Lord bless my soul", "he's off again"
"Will memories never die? "
Those "Brew up Years" in Stalag spent,
For ever will remain,
And once a year when all is still,
He lives these scenes again.