Sunday WW1 Remembered...

Continuing a Spring-like theme

The Place by Francis Ledwidge

Blossoms as old as May I scatter here,

And a blue wave I lifted from the stream.

It shall not know when winter days are drear

Or March is hoarse with blowing. But a-dream

The laurel boughs shall hold a canopy

Peacefully over it the winter long,

Till all the birds are back from oversea,

And April rainbows win a blackbird's song.

And when the war is over I shall take

My lute a-down to it and sing again

Songs of the whispering things amongst the brake,

And those I love shall know them by their strain.

Their airs shall be the blackbird's twilight song,

Their words shall be all flowers with fresh dews hoar.—

But it is lonely now in winter long,

And, God! to hear the blackbird sing once more.

Francis Ledwidge was an Irish writer and poet. He was killed in action at Passchendaele in 1917

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