Committed writers dedicated to working together to produce excellent poems, short stories, drama, life writing, and creative non-fiction

Why not contact us for more details about our small, mutually supportive monthly meetings? Don't be shy. No need to be brave!

Sheila 01823 67 28 46 sheilarogers4322@yahoo.com

Valerie 01884 84 04 22 valtay@btinternet.com

Friday 17 June 2011

Old Man




Wintry sun silvers the mudflats. Too proud to turn his collar to the breeze, Supported by his faithful walking stick,
(High polished shoes and trousers neatly pressed)
He pulls the brim of his old bowler down
And gasps for breath.

His rattling chest’s a product of the mines
And mustard gas. He prays
The kiddies standing near will never know of war.
(Young Georgie Angel blown apart at Ypres,
And kindly Smithy, - shot for a coward when his mind ran mad).

As she passed, he held his Millie’s hand.
Who’ll hold his frail fingers now the tide ebbs fast?

© Gill Dunstan
All rights reserved

No comments: