War Poetry

The Three Concerned

The Man

He lies forgotten 'neath the watching skies,
the blood upon his bayonet scarlet bright;
the red moon shining in his glazed eyes,
the 'Last Post' crying, crying in the night.

The Woman

She proudly sits within her home of gloom,
and reads and reads his lines with wistful smile,
then, eyes aglisten, seeks the empty room
(and he within his bloody grave the while.)

The Child

His wooden war-horse stands beside his bed,
his tiny pillow holds a head of gold.
He dreams of all the things his father said,
he dreams of all the tales his father told.

by Leon Gellert

Before Action

We always had to do our work at night.
I wondered why we had to be so sly.
I wondered why we couldn’t have our fight
Under the open sky.
I wondered why I always felt so cold.
I wondered why the orders seemed so slow,
So slow to come, so whisperingly told,
So whisperingly low.
I wondered if my packing-straps were tight,
And wondered why I wondered … Sound
went wild …
An order came … I ran into the night,
Wondering why I smiled.

by Leon Gellert