Roy Ernest Ballard

On Stanford Training Area, - Poem by Roy Ernest Ballard

Stand-to at dawn! Our well dug-in platoon
watch down their sights. The sky is turning green,
like coral sands beneath a calm lagoon
through sunny, waveless waters dimly seen,
the deeps of emerald, the pools of jade;
cold, dawnlight pools in which the morning steeps
its muddy cloths in every dyeing shade.
Along the forest ride the morning creeps
and catches on some madcap enterprise
a heavy-footed hare who halts and squints
and sniffs at us in comical surprise.
Beside a pit, long dug for sharp-edged flints
by other warriors, withered now to bones,
we lie in company with roots and stones.

Topic(s) of this poem: soldier

Form: Sonnet

Comments about On Stanford Training Area, by Roy Ernest Ballard

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 14, 2016

Poem Edited: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

[Report Error]