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Somme

Another war and time, another place
About the foe he had begun to face,
Grant said, “I’ll fight it out upon this line
If it all summer takes till it is mine.”

And following the stubbornness of mules,
The Great War foes fought on like fools
Upon a line along the River Somme
Without the flair of war, without aplomb.
As if a duel with twenty paces stepped,
They stayed while many new-made widows wept
For five long months while each side’s pain
Grew even larger without any gain.
They slogged it out upon that bloody sod
Without a thought to man or even God,
With Germany and all its Axis band
Fixed on the solitary goal of land.
A solemn summer turned to somber fall
And Somme became a soggy grave, a gall
A million drank. And sobbing? – even more,
As Somme showed the futility of war.

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2018.

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In the land of never ending,
In the country far away,
There are loved ones who are waiting
For the end of night and day.

In the land of ever always,
Where the river never dries,
The night and day were never there,
Just everlasting skies.

In the land where all’s forever,
The night will never come.
So candles are as needed as
A hiker’s begging thumb.

In the land that is eternal,
Where the Son’s the only sun,
It’s our turn that they’re waiting,
Since theirs is now begun.

Their joy full, for ours they wait –
The end of night and day,
In the land of never ending,
In the country far away.

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2011.

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