LOL I see where your coming from halfman .but more Wilfred Owen ,he was a Birkenhead lad
Indeed, Fifty...One of Birkenhead's proudest sons. Was killed on the last day of World War One.
Remember doing his poems for O'Level including 'Anthem for a Doomed Youth' which I always thought would make a good title for a punk song....
What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells;
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,—
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.
What candles may be held to speed them all?
Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.
The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.
Utterly 5h!te compared to the 'Ode to Steve McNulty.
Good to know Wilfred Owen's spirit is still being nurtured on his native heath!
I left my heart in Papworth General
Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 10/04/2017 13:29 by HalfManHalfBiscan.