Guernsey Poets

In the smoke and flattened fields your comrades walked into oblivion; you were left to face a hundred years alone Now you are fêted a...

Think of how much better society would be today If all of those young men hadn't died in such a brutal way Think of the advancements ...

What passing-bells for these who die as cattle? ---Only the monstrous anger of the guns. Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rat...

American flags hang dismally like forgotten laundry slung across balconies dirty and betrayed A grey skin of steam plumes by the Hudso...

Armistice Day And the café is two thirds empty. Vacant seats that evoke images Of men unknown Who drank coffee, made love, fathered ch...

What passing-bells for these who die as cattle? ---Only the monstrous anger of the guns. Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rat...

Ypres, the Somme, Vimy Ridge, Passchendaele… The Enemy was fearsome, but destined to fail Before the might of the Canadian Expeditionary F...

In the smoke and flattened fields your comrades walked into oblivion; you were left to face a hundred years alone Now you are fêted ...

Your great grandad fought in the 1st world war He survived, but never spoke, About the muddy fields and stinking trenches Or of the mus...

Wear your poppy with pride That's what the sign said Remember the ones who died And the ones who bled Wear your poppy with pride ...

My boots are invisible. I cannot see where my torso ends and my thighs begin. I cannot see my trouser legs, or my legs within I am become...

From Jerbourg cliffs the morning sun        gleams soft across the bay We gather here at Moulin Huet        this sad, fulfilling day. ...

Wear your poppy with pride That's what the sign said Remember the ones who died And the ones who bled Wear your poppy with pride ...

My boots are invisible. I cannot see where my torso ends and my thighs begin. I cannot see my trouser legs, or my legs within I am become...

I am the flower worn with pride Commemorating those that died My colour that of blood once spilled Upon the muddy battlefield When I a...

The bugle called, yet no-one came Out from the blood, the mud and the rain Silenced the call left an empty space A barren, desolate place...

What passing-bells for these who die as cattle? ---Only the monstrous anger of the guns. Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle ...

The battle lines are drawn From many miles away, The soldier looks within He hopes it's not today. His head's in such a spin Fo...