Lest We Forget
Till the daffodils glow
for the jonquils know
and the roses rise again,
I’ll scan the skies
in the world of your eyes
washed in the greyness
the softness of rain.
They tell us the godwits will come again
and spring will be sprung once more.
And once more yet,
lest we forget
a child will knock on our door.
Yes, they tell us a child will come again
when the land is wasted and still
they tell us he’ll climb through a burnt-out land
to the top of a black, scorc…
