100 Years

1918 - 2018

Marking the end of World War I

Flanders Fields 2018

By Geoffrey Dobbs

One hundred springs have cast their wreaths upon this land;
War’s jagged signature still scrawls across its fields,
Though faded now and blurred by time’s erasing hand.
Above, the larks still sing; below, the earth still yields
A brutal harvest: barbed wire, shells and nameless bones.
The bugle calls dissolve to silence amongst the lines
Of voiceless, tongueless dead, as mute as standing stones.
Subsumed within a vaster silence now, they lie
Bereft of present, past or future’s hopes and dreams.
What meaning now for them in polished bugle calls
Or politicians words? For us alone it seems
The solemn Ode’s declaimed. To us the duty falls:

Each year to say ‘Their names shall live for evermore;’
Oh, yes, maybe the names; but nothing, nothing more.

Geoffrey Dobbs, 2018

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