They are before our guns,
not a simple mile away,
they are before our guns
and death holds sway
from cannister spewing
in heavenly clouds
from our muzzles....
Approaching our guns they come,
threatening with steadfast style,
as only the Frenchie can
with his gallic smile....
loading, tamping, firing,
great roars within our ranks,
dying swathes of Frenchies...
we pray our thanks...
They are down in droves,
screams reach our ears
from a simple mile away
but not enough to stifle tears,
we struggle not to speak
we evade the thought of the carnage
we wreak..
“Cease firing”
The order comes and all is still,
the booms within my drums
ring on.....
I feel death approach...
the tender breeze
brings sweetly sick
the smell of
red ripe gush.....
and now our Light Horse ride
in a killing frenzy.
to sabre remnants of the fallen foe...
Pater...Pater... have mercy upon them,
for they know what they do....
Graham..April 2..2004
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Reviews of "Before our Guns"
Reviewed by Lady Peg (Reader)
Reviewed on April 3, 2004
I really like these when i am not writing i love to watch old movies
tales of pirates and soilders this is well written.
David Hightower’s lyrically expansive meditation on the whims of fate and the unpredictability of the human condition fill the pages of THE HANGING MAN DREAMS with thrilling music and mesmerizing imagery. Hightower’s richly infused voice echoes the e
This book represents a thirty-day period of my poetry journal. Each poem addresses
the dominant thoughts occupying my mind during the early morning hours of a given
day.
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tales of pirates and soilders this is well written.
Ladye Peg