D Day – Four Score On
A turbulent sea and shell fire and fear,
Foundering vessels with quailing young men
Grim tides of war brought to the beach: and then,
These remaining mark the eightieth year,
Honouring those who had eighty years stolen
That day, so many liberated from life,
So few now, comrades who’re left with their grief,
For long gone mates lost among the fallen.
Much better there be barefoot children
Building sand castles along that beach
Pounded by army boots directed to reach
Concrete bunkers full of desperate men,
Just like the ones dying to get ashore,
Divided by flags they’d give their lives for.
D. A.