(Inspired by “The Battle of Blenheim“, by Robert Southey. – Owen)
So many lives cut short for causes
No one can recall –
So many, rallied to the trumpets,
Gone beneath the pall –
So many, barely risen, when
It came their time to fall –
But men die in their seasons;
And wars do not need reasons
But many spend their mortal days
In pastimes much more meek –
Pursuing beauty as they can,
Engaging in technique –
In pottery or carpentry
Or making silk batik –
For beauty born in season
Is its own kind of reason;
And far beyond war’s measure
Is just one moment’s
Pleasure
To share is human:
I love the flow of this and just the meaning of it… Very nice.
Thank you!
I adore your rhymes. Kudos
Beautiful