Poem no 4

Peace and War Poem

March is upon us, Spring at last some say,

Lighter nights and an end to the cold, dreich blustery day.

Out walking by the Forth, Blackness on Sea,

Alone in my own little world, cushioned in tranquillity,

But in another land, not that far-away,

Bombs rain down, desperate souls, they cower and pray.

Surely in the 21st century, how can it be?

That despots can reek destruction and impose such tyranny.

My mind wanders back, head in the sand,

Shielding myself from the horrors that ravage that land.

And there in the distance, a fair familiar sight, Somewhere warm and welcoming,

an escape from my plight…..

The Lobster Pot.