A Poem on This Memorial Day

In the distance, the bagpipes play,

On the march, they come our way,

The Highlanders, here from distant shore,

To join the battle, this our war.


In the distance, the cannon roar,

High above, the bombers soar,

The smell of death, it fills the air,

This is hell, if anywhere.


In the distance, my home does wait,

My bonnie waiting at the gate,

She waits for me, now all these years,

Weary from her life of tears.


In the distance, the angels rise,

To cross the seas of azure skies,

To lift my body from this place,

To bring me home with final grace.


In the distance, the bagpipes play,

They come for me this summer day,

Lost and lonely, my life I yield,

Upon this sacred battlefield.



On this Memorial Day, for my Uncle who died in Normandy while serving with the Black Watch regiment.



The End

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