I sit here trying
To inspire my thoughts
So I may scribe
Some nobel words
To describe
Amidst a battlefield
This Scent Of A Rose
I feel
Where roses I can not smell
No butterflies nor bees
To pollinate their needs
No one to tend them
Providing water
No dew to rinse their petals
Before the rising sun
Just my words to describe
The magnificence
Of her in desert sands
With love and affection
As we did with our children.

The sounds of exploding shells
Awaken me
Back to the reality
To smell the rot
Of flesh and burning fuel
The screams of dying men
Some knowing the end is near
Softly cry for their moms
Their hands searching blindly
In the middle of noon
No! I can not find
Nobel words
To describe the dying.


By: William Bonilla
06/27/06