Grantchester, August 4th 2014

I came upon a damson tree
whose boughs hung low as we took tea
on orchard lawn one August morn
while gentle breeze fanned you and me.

St Andrew and St Mary, Grantchester

I visited the church clock tower
and heard it chime the eleventh hour
as it had done - the war begun 
this night a hundred years before.

The ghosts of poets now revered
whose bleak words on our hearts are seared
imagined here, their spirits near,
in questioning guise to me appeared.

'We sacrificed our youth to war
gave up the promise held in store
of time to learn and fame to earn
as generations had before.'

Today stark headlines catch my eye
announcing bombs as children die.
A hundred years of nations' tears
stay not the hate-fuelled battle-cry.

©Janet Henderson 4th August 2014