Poets’ corner

War and Peace

Coventry Telegraph - - LETTERS -

It’s the ache in your heart And the hole in his head When you lie in the dirt And not in your bed. It’s the fear and the mis­ery You see all around As the earth starts to trem­ble At your feet on the ground The build­ings are black, The win­dows are shat­tered The streets are all dust No one cares, noth­ing mat­ters The stench of death is all around I stretch out my fin­gers Dig them into the ground The light falls on a petal A daisy is flow­er­ing Soft, white and pure as the day we

are born. I feel a glim­mer of hope Burn through my fin­gers into my

heart. Could there be peace On the hori­zon? Hold tight, keep hop­ing all is not lost. Fran Roberts Coundon

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