The striking scarlet standard swings so low <br />Over the blue, broken bodies of men <br />The sun becomes cold and loses it’s glow <br />Across the awful, bloodstained fields and fen <br />The tiny orphans cry and wail so hard <br />As do the mournful widows and mothers <br />Whilst they listen to the yarn of the bard <br />About their lost fathers, sons and lovers <br />They hear of their loved ones courageous deeds <br />Upon the sodden, bloody battle fields <br />And through the perfidious, muddy reeds <br />Which are now adorned with their swords and shields <br />And that is where those men now lay at rest <br />Amongst the red reeds of the marshland’s crest.<br /><br />J.A McManus<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/amongst-the-red-reeds-a-sonnet/
