The Dutch Flowers

a poem by tobias kerins, UK

The gas lamp hung from the corner of the building
The pools of light appearing like puddles on the cobbles below
The air was still surrounded with chills
With heads bowed low were daffodils

Vehicles steamrolled the once tranquil streets
Insults hurled and vehemence shown
Children screamed and women they cowered
Men they fought but were overpowered

The windmill stood as its sails failed to turn
Barren farms with buildings ashen
Food was scarce and starvation rife
The cutting edge of a bloody knife

A once proud flag above the town hall flew
Now fallen and torn to shreds
But cliques of resistance had grown and risen
To help escape this evil prison

They may have been down but were not beaten
It was pride that drove them on
From somewhere they found an inner strength
Cross new boundaries at any length

Without doubt it would take great nerve
Clear minds and a steely passion
With coded message and well thought plans
Defeat they must these bloodied hands

Be it pedal power or just pure grit
They strove and for freedom fought
Above Holland shone a shining star
Had the enemy come a bridge too far

Across the lowlands with innocence destroyed
They still continued to believe and fight
Through fields of snow and rivers cold
Determined their soul they had not sold

Peace did come albeit far too late
And order was soon restored
Removed was fear and an air of gloom
Amsterdam's tulips again did bloom

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