I wrote this for the Theatre Cloud War Poetry for Today competition. It wasn’t short-listed but that matters not; for the first time in my life I felt I had written something I was proud of and wanted to keep and share …
The hours, the days, the weeks, the months, the years,
The gay abandon, laughter and the many tears,
I cannot fathom all I’ve shared with you
My child, my dream, the one I’ve loved so true.
The hugs, the jokes the times we spent together,
The crossing words, the pain, the worries whether
You were safe, that you would come back soon,
My child, my dream, my star, my sun, my moon.
There is no scale, no rule, no gauge, no measure,
Can ever quantify the love and all the pleasure,
That I have freely shared and from you had,
My child, my dream, my bairn, my lass, my lad.
How is it then that you will think to arm,
And school yourself to do another harm,
Another deeping well of love like you,
Another child whose parents loved so true?
The tragedy of war is not just this,
Consider all that love that goes amiss,
I fear the loss of ones I never knew
But most of all, my child, the loss of you.