The Night Watch - by
Shhh, what did you want to show
that couldn’t wait until the morning?
Was it the moon – because I see it:
the first good bead on a one-bead string
tiredness
Dulce Et Decorum Est - by
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest / To children ardent for some desperate glory, / The…
Any Private to Any Private - by
Ay, gie’s ma rum. I’m needin’t sair, by God!
/ We’ve juist been bringin’ Wullie doun the line –…
When Day Is Done - by
Sorrow remembers us when day is done.
/ It sits in its old chair gently rocking
/ and singing tenderly in the evening.
/ It welcomes…
On the Slope - by
I cling to the railings as befits my station:
/ a senior person slipping slowly downhill.
/
/ The world no longer our oyster,
/ gone…
Billets - by
From out the reeling night the old chateau
/ Rears up to meet a straggling file of men,
/ Muddy and sore; who filled…
War - by
The songs I’ve sung are futile,
/ Of little futile things,
/ Of foolish dreams and fancies
/ On feeble faltering wings;
/ So I will cease my…
The Afternoon Shift Are Leaving the Port Talbot Steelworks - by
The machines don’t / stop, night or day, although, one by one, / the anonymous men are slipping away.
German Prisoners - by
When first I saw you in the curious street,
/ Like some platoon of soldier ghosts in grey,
/ My mad impulse was…
The Fascination of What’s Difficult - by
The fascination of what’s difficult
/ Has dried the sap out of my veins, and rent
/ Spontaneous joy and natural…
From the Line - by
Have you seen men come from the Line,
/ Tottering, doddering, as if bad wine
/ Had drugged their very souls;
/ Their…
Nothing - by
Because she is exhausted
/ and confused,
/
/ and doesn’t want to argue,
/ and can’t speak,
/
/ she dreams of nothing
/ for a thousand years,
/
/ or what the nurses…