The Trenches Poem by John May
The Trenches
They held with horrid hell their lines
Til shells dispelled their noxious fumes
Then through the labyrinth there fell
A myriad to Earth's gray womb
A thousand summers ere that day
Those fruitful fields were green and bloom
What once were luscious, lovely plains
Are now a wasteland and a tomb
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Topic(s) of this poem: green
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8/28/2026 1:55:26 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
