NO MORE FLAGS
Each Spring, in a corner by the trees,Long green hands applauded in the breeze.
They rose to fold and scissor slanting light
Which fell on water sparkling bright.
One day, sudden as thunder, came the raid
Those hands were shorn beneath the blade.
And in their place were plots of earth.
Neatly spaced. Graves of death.
In months or years the Spring time will return
But no more flags will greet that coming of the sun.
Hugh Noble © Sept 2001
GOD HEARD THE NATIONS
God heard the nations, scream and sing and shout ...
Gott strafe England! God save the King!
And God this, and God that, and God the other thing.
"Good God!" said God. "I've got my work cut out."
Author unknown.
TRAGEDIES
This Christmas we will remember the dead.
But let us remember ALL the dead.
When a person is robbed of life by violence, the tragedy is not made greater,
Or less, that she dies alone or in a multitude.
It matters not what nationality they have, or what political creed impelled the hand that killed them.
Each was a special person for someone.
So when we remember the dead of New York, let's remember too the innocent victims of
Nicaragua, Guatamala, Chile, Cuba, Cambodia ...
There are so many, I can't remember them all.
And that, in itself, is a tragedy.
D-DAY
Am I a coward?
Would I have had the courage to do as you -
To run, with water-logged legs, up that beach, with face forward, into bullet and flame?
That seems to me, in my protected life, unlikely.
Not a coward exactly.
Just an ordinary person who plays the self-preserving game.
I know there is no after.
And knowing that, would I give the self for all time?
You too were ordinary people, made giants by the hour.
How shall we honour you, you Giants of Omaha and Gold?
Not with medals, speeches or pompous ceremony.
Not even with tales of valour re-told.
We honour you, at this hour,
By not sending young men and women to kill and be killed in a deceitful war
Unworthy of their sacrifice.