Over Stones

This is a new post on my website https://bloominheather.com , a poem called Over Stones.  

The morning mist retreated leaving green hills bright with dew.

The sunlight dried the water drops, the grass thinned out anew.

Brown stains spread

Blood shone red

In splatters over stones.

Here lay the dead

Shot with lead

And carrion bared their bones.

The land retains our history enclosed in its rich earth

Our crops feed off the wealth of dead and give us our rebirth.

New blooms spread

Petals shine red

In patterns over stones.

Rich flower bed

With love’s care fed

For our past sins atones.

The ground is hallowed where we walk in every country village

Its history holds the sins of war, of death and rape and pillage

Yet we forget

We’re sinning yet

We fight wars overseas

New death is met

New grievance set

And we harvest bitter tears.

The land retains our history enclosed in its rich earth

Our crops feed off the wealth of dead and give us our rebirth

Ian Smith of the Costa Blanca English Folk  Music Club composed the music for this, but unfortunately I do not know how to add an MP3 audio file.  

Heather