The Dream of Molly

Posted on April 14, 2013

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The summer he remembers as he sits in his trench
Holds his thoughts clear, keeps away the stench
He remembers the summer of nineteen-fifteen well
The time he spent with Molly, a secret he would never tell

He holds his Lee Enfield tight to his chest
Thoughts of that summer clear with the rest
His sweet Molly an image in his mind
As he prepares to go over a field of mines

The screams rise above the bullets and bombs
Oh god, why did he sign up for this, so wrong
Caked in mud, bodies lie to his side
How he wished he could run and hide

But over he’ll go for country and king
He’ll survive this war for Molly as he holds the ring
Brought in Paris before he reached here
Before he knew what it was to fear

A bullets passes by his head in a whistle like tone
God that was close, almost hitting flesh and bone
Banish these thoughts he tells himself in his head
Or you’ll end up with the others, maimed or dead

An officer shouts, ”almost time lads, almost time!”
As he prepares to kill legally, not a crime
”Now lads, now!” shouts the officer as they go
Over the fields of passchendaele they fall in rows

He though gets through okay with a mark
But the field of battle shocks him by contrast
So much death and injury he has seen
He really wishes this was just a bad dream

Thoughts of Molly have grown weak
As he’s seen man’s evil at its peak
He knows he has to keep it together
For strength in this is his saviour

As he prepares to move off to be relieved
He thinks of all he has seen
Two years now he has fought on the front
The Somme and Ypres have made him blunt

Will he go home now for he has served his time
Or will he been killed in his prime
All he knows is Molly is his dream at home
He knows it’s to her he has to atone

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Posted in: Poetry