The Charge

Hard back

pages, stained with time and
an aged aroma.

1915. A battle is painted.
Acid slashing,
spitting.

Direct eyes leap from a tiny cliff
onto young bodies. Bloodied. Abandoned.

Somewhere, some mothers stand as sharp
as shrapnel,
bullets piercing their wombs,
their children’s supple homes.

Trembling hands
find a gun
and
a buddy. A soldier. A boy.
Death has no time in
these fields. He is hurried.

Frontal attacks sweep
unprotected spots. Blurring instinct.
Blinding the Earth with a scarlet bath.

Burying dirt with
young boys,
men.

1915. Hard back pages, stained with
memory and
the scent of suffering.

And this….
just the beginning.

*About The Charge by W. Douglas Newton.

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16 thoughts on “The Charge

  1. I love this Maggie, well if love is the correct word it says it all to me. May I use it in poetry Challenge this Sunday , my challenge is to publish and then precise or critic a war poem from ww1or ww2 . Yours though not written then should of been. You will get full credits . I await your answer. 😀 willow

  2. I find this a very effective poem and these lines particularly moving.

    ‘Trembling hands
    find a gun
    and
    a buddy. A soldier. A boy.
    Death has no time in
    these fields. He is hurried.. ‘

    Thank you for this one.

  3. […] maggiemaeijustsaythis   wrote the poem above after reading an article for the news Papers Mons . written by W Douglas Newton. I can find no information on W Douglas Newton himself apart from the fact that he was a prolific writer who wrote fiction and fact about war. His books and articles painted a truer picture than any of the propaganda released at the time.  maggiemaeijustsaythis  called her poem  The Charge […]

  4. This is very interesting, You are a very skilled blogger. I have joined your feed and look forward to seeking more of your fantastic post. Also, I’ve shared your website in my social networks!

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