Air raid final version

Air raid final version

Five verse poem about the horrors of bombing.

One-page printed document

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SReidK473650v20038

AIR RAID

A flame, a glorious golden strand,
Lit by some ethereal hand,
And o’er the gathering mists held high,
Like a fiery sword in the sunset sky.
The purple shadows softly crept,
The jewels of night their vigil kept,
And gently over this fair land,
Sweet sleep and peace reigned hand in hand.

But peace was just an idle dream,
For suddenly a piercing scream,
Sickening thuds and droning wings,
Shatter the dream with evil things.
Evil things wrought by evil mankind.

To kill and maim the body and mind,
And hells let loose with all its fire
With innocent lives …. make a funeral pyre.
The mantle of night is torn with moans
Of anguished human cries and groans

But let other lands tremble and shudder with fright,
And say freedom is dead
Though dark is the night we know that the dawn, victory’s sword in hand
Will rise triumphant over our dear land
We know that the dawn
Victory’s sword in hand
Will rise triumphant
Over our dear land