The Week Before War
This day I shall remember,
when all was light and bright about us.
The girls and I, beneath the sun,
were hunting daisies.
Like the twin lambs and their own kin,
they were playing, bursting forth with new life,
such was their joy.
Each step was filled with wonder
as I spoke to them of the magic that is Spring,
And we looked for fir cones, pussy willow and sweet catkins.
and signs of those small creatures: rabbit-holes and tiny paw prints.
The Red Kite, he was soaring high above us, like a symbol of my Hope.
And in his flight we spied the Moon and Sun together.
Though it was the Week Before War,
(or should I rather say Invasion),
the Anger which had erupted on my skin, was,
for just a while, forgotten.
And the thoughts of those poor children in Iraq
were cast into small shadow, like the Moon.
But, later on that night when She was Full
I knew that Full scale bombing would begin.
Yet while She had been high and partly hidden,
in a blue and sunlit sky,
Her innocence so gently shone.
And my fears were briefly buried
on the Dark Side of her face.
Written on 15th March 2003