In the Beat of the Drums

[David Campbell]

Haven't got much time at the moment, but Bob's challenged us to post a poem. So, with Anzac Day approaching, here's an oldie.

Cheers
David

In the Beat of the Drums

© David Campbell, 2012

When the sunset has gone from the hillsides, and the shadow of night slowly comes,
you can hear them, for they are still marching, to the sound of some far-distant drums.
In the silence their voices still whisper of the deeds that took place long ago,
and the breeze carries word of their story so that all who can hear it might know.

For the passing of years lends an aura that conceals what those men had to face,
for we layer our thoughts with detachment as we lose sense of time, mood, and place.
They knew little of where they were going, or the enemy they had to fight,
just that England and Empire were calling, and that they had to do what was right.

So they went, full of hope and high spirits, to defend all that they held so dear,
while their loved ones could only stay, waiting, where each day brought the torment of fear.
And they fought in a strange foreign country, often led by incompetent men
who remained a long way from the fighting, where they slaughtered with strokes of a pen.

As the wild dogs of war start their howling there is little to make them be still,
and the outcome is death and destruction when the order each day is to kill.
In the mud of that stark, barren landscape many thousands were destined to fall,
and among them some sons of our valley, who so selflessly answered the call.

But they still, one and all, have a story, it’s a message to take through the years
in the hearts of a new generation…in the laughter, the sadness, the tears.
It exists in the dreams of the living, handed down through the daughters and sons,
to be heard if we just care to listen, in the echo of long-silent guns.

It’s the sound of the soldiers returning with a vision of hell in their eyes,
and a memory never forgotten, for the impact of war never dies.
In the tramp of their feet is a lesson that we still haven’t managed to heed,
for each day brings an image of conflict of religion or colour or creed.

In the beat of the drums is a yearning for a time when the price to be paid
is no longer a life that is taken…just a name on some final parade.
It’s the hope that they’ve left us a symbol, a reflection of courage and pride,
and a prayer that some day in the future all our nations will march side-by-side.

[Maureen K Clifford]

Spot on David and timely as well with Anzac Day approaching

[thestoryteller]

You'd like to thing we would learn David but sadly warfare appears to be entrenched in the DNA of man.

Enjoyed the read mate.


Merv.