Anzac Day 2015

Anzac Day 2015

Charlie Chaplin, mother sang

didn't rush to war

not for him the Dardanelles

stayed instead to entertain

black and white on silent screen

brightly shone the moon

How much of love and light and joy

is buried with our darling boy

carved in stone, Gallipoli

forty thousand men and more

didn't live to make their mark

slaughtered all too soon

Countless stories never lived

all that might have been

gallant Anzacs donned their hats

fell in step and waved goodbye

Matilda waltzing with the band

jolly swagman tune

Tommy Atkins with his pals

whistling, marched away

Picadilly, Leicester Square

grieving Dolly left behind

siren songs, adventure's lure

heedless to their doom

One hundred years, what lessons learned?

Still the marching bands

red and gold the regiments

clean white graves and monuments

poppies, anthems, poetry

plaintive wailing bugle call

we may shroud it all in beauty

talk of sacrifice and duty

but the truth remains obscene

dulce et decorum, dying

such a bloody, ugly, lie

27th April, 2015, for Sue, whose grandfather, Lieutenant John Lionel Calvert Booth, was mortally wounded on April 25th 1915 at Gallipoli. He died of wounds on H M Hospital Ship Itonus on April 28th 1915 aged 38, and was buried at sea.

I think of Susan

I think of Susan

I think of Susan in the bathroom 
where her Galliano shoes swagger
and swank, still life
or by the conte crayon curvy nude
on the bedroom wall,
the oriental shirt and mannequin, juxtaposed
first-ever flowers, tulips, seriously askew
and tentative
but bolder daffodils

For Susan taught us week by week
called us artists, said Be brave
and try the right side, where the soul
creative, can breathe and stretch
and grow

and so I think of Susan
light and lovely
her precious legacy


April 16th 2015, Hounoux, for Susan and for Gill, with love and thanks