Guernsey Poets

I think just how my shape will rise When I shall be forgiven, Till hair and eyes and timid head Are out of sight, in heaven. I think ...

I grew up on another island With the mackerel man and his evening shouts Down quiet roads we rode our steeds  Through the gorse and fern...

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 ...

The vandal of the scandal The villain of the piece Flying off the handle With friends and enemies From pillar to post And light to sha...

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