Welcome
Speak to Me
They disembarked in 45And no-one spoke and no-one smiledThere were to many spaces in the line.Gathered at the cenotaphAll agreed with the hand on heartTo sheath the sacrificial Knifes.But nowShe stands upon Southampton dockWith her handkerchiefAnd her summer frock clingsTo her wet body in the rain.In quiet desperation knucklesWhite upon the slippery reinsShe bravely waves the boys Goodbye again.
And still the dark stain spreads betweenHis shoulder blades.A mute reminder of the poppy fields and graves.And when the fight was overWe spent what they had made.But in the bottom of our heartsWe felt the final cut.