April 9, 2011
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The Blessing
Innocent yet deadly ground
Some devices still unfound
Forgotten through all weathers
A scattering of colorful bomblets
Disguised as many-colored wonders
Dispersed among poppies in mountain fieldsCultivated by feckless flower farmers...
Oh the joy of toys
Indiscriminately strewn from mercenary whirly-birds
A curiosity of color beckoning the immature
Yes of course the joy of toys would do it...
A click waiting to be clicked
A limb sacrificed and scrunched or worse
Life liquefied...
When once all that was needed was kindness and understanding
When dreams became reality and nothing else was left to decide
When every blessed merciless act was forgiven
For all those innocent children or their fathers or mothers
Who picked those deadly baubles up...
Hell of a way to wage a war...
Comments (2)
When I read your poetry it's as if I'm still living in the 19th Century. It's very relieving.
The land mines - a barbaric device and indiscriminant maimer. So sad...
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