a poem by ROY Douglas KNEALE, UK

Beside the umbrella stand
inside our cosy entrance hall
I smiled (beguiled)
when last his shadow fell upon the wall
thrown thereon one wintry night
by beams of wind-swayed porch-way light
and with such streaming through
(alas in retrospective view)
seeming to convey his living presence
in guise of spectral essence
as if forewarning he was destined soon for shade
and I for mourning:

Such doom then unsurmised
(being with joy inflamed)
and tho inwardly surprised
my sweet
(in uniform so neat)
stood there - lintel-framed:
As I melted in his strong embrace
and glad caressed his kindly face
that those moments (sweetly bliss-d)
would prove to be our final tryst
there was no way to tell
for he or I;

We said 'Farewell'
but not "Goodbye"
and to ever love the other swore;
When last he cast his shadow at my door.

In memory of those who gave their lives in service to their Country.

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