Settle into landscapes bleak
sculpted by foggy shrouds,
rolling, tumbling 'cross our eyes
like a handful of teary clouds,
Every weeping widows tears
are gathered by mourning crowds
and sprinkled on the trodden earth
where heroes once stood proud,
as they sang.....
"Roll the hills over,
lay the lands low,
smother its people
before they can sow,
Clean up the bloodshed,
dust down the trees
before the ashes
catch on the breeze"
yet.....
Sweeping through the hedgerows
like a faithful September embrace,
a comforting liquid blanket falls
upon the webs of silk and lace,
To cling to the broken parapet
of a forgotten yet familiar place,
that still hold some memories
of the anguish that wet your face,
as you sang.....
"Reach across the water
beyond this foggy shore,
look toward the nations
blinded by their war,
Lead them to the trenches
where the fog is thick,
suffocating the breath
of the dying and sick"
Landscapes Bleak
Robert Horton