The time and date is:
6:12 am Saturday, 17 March 2018
* Home

* Ballads
* Ballad Features
* Burns
* McGonagall
* Other Poetry
* Scottish Writers
* Scots Glossary

* Alphabetical List
* Featured List

* List of Topics

* Scottish Songs
* Modern Songs

* Submit a Poem
* Submit a Song

* Copyright
* Permission
* Privacy
* Standards

Web Links
* Other Sites

* About Us
* E-mail Us

The War To End All Wars ©

Charles McMullen
Southampton, England

Inside that handsome face
Waited a skull ready
To be exposed to the air
That wretched motherís son
One moment to breathe
In native air
Then instantaneous
Just to get a flag
Atop a mountain
Of their foes
Goodbye blue sky
The air is mixed
With a gaseous emanation
Of sulphurous blood!
Each and every man
In the field
Is a target
The prey
Of a luckier man
Than he
Even the birds were gassed
And fell from
Their trees
We had no right to deliver
Them from there
The morning
Presented the sight
Of frozen
Horses gassed
With their saliva
Solid down
To the ground
We set the lethal gas
Out onto Gerry
But somehow
The wind
Decided to change
And blew it back on us
What a fuss!
So gasping for a fag
We smoked
Horse shit and
Tram tickets
And never
Gave a cuss
Till the arrows
Of peace were fired
By that lovely
Lady of Mons
She was not a Tommy
For she was
Of somewhere unknown
To remind the men
Of Hell
That they could,
If they found it in their hearts
Build Heaven
For there families
Back in
Jolly Old Blighty.

Web Site by IT-SERVE © 1999 - 2018 All Rights Reserved Return to top