The great bell tolls.
A gun fires.
Still the tolling of the time,
Then silence.
Seagulls screech in ignorance.
Leaves and grass rustle,
In the cold breeze,
As watery sun rays,
Illuminate the red paper petals.
Silent tears are shed.
Drops of salty water,
Run down worn faces.
Faces that were once young.
Eyes that have seen horror,
Stare into a long gone time,
But still fresh in their memories.
A gun sounds again.
Trumpets sound.
The silence gone,
But the thoughts,
Still with those now gone,
Those forever young.
J R A Gigney (11 November 2012, 11am)
Dedicated to my Grandpa Duncan and all those who've fought in war through the ages and around the World...
