Tag Archives: war

Homelands Far From Home

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Young were they then.
Boys no more
But not yet men
When the drums of war,
Like Sirens’ song,
Swept up yearning hearts,
And the fear of missing out
Was all they feared
From homelands far from home.

Steeped in the lore
Of their fathers’ wars,
They could not fail
Their country’s call,
As over there and over here,
They sailed away on mothers’ tears
To homelands far from home.

A rugged game,
Or so it seemed,
Until their friends
Beside them fell,
And innocence
Was shed like blood
In the muck and mud
Of homelands far from home.

Those at home
The same remained,
And “over there”,
A glorious war reigned.
While in the trenches,
The boys, forever changed,
Still in their prime,
Old men became,
As endless ranks began
Their endless slumber
In homelands far from home.

And every year,
On that one day,
With pipes and drums,
We honour they
Who homeward came
But found no home.
And never will their hearts forget
Their comrades who still slumber yet
In homelands far from home.

Stephen Tomkins
Seoul
18 January 2024

Lest We Forget

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Row upon row, the crosses stand,
An army on parade,
Tended now by gentler hand
‘Neath verdant palisade.

Like silent sentinels, the trees
Stand guard here day and night
Though now only the bees
And vengeful magpies keep the fight.

No Sergeant-Major’s voice is heard,
No bugle call to battle.
The sound of leaves, by breezes stirred,
The call of distant cattle.

Baptised by mud and blood and sweat,
They heard their country’s call.
Waved off by crowds who then forget
And never see them fall.

From battle’s fertile fields, they’re borne
With honour to this place.
That we’ve not learned their lesson
Means yet more will meet their fate.

Though the lucky ones return,
It’s clear they’re never quite the same.
They, too, have paid a heavy price
Despite the victory claim.

Stephen Tomkins
3 April 2017
Sydney

Photo credit:
journalstar.com

Tell Me Why? – A Tribute to the Fallen

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Molten face and vacant heart,
Slowly, I’ve been ripped apart.
On misty window, torrents stream.
In vain, I pray it’s just a dream.
A crumpled letter, trembling hand,
At last, I think I understand:
The thing I dreaded has come to pass.
The whole damn war’s a bloody farce!
My son, my boy, my little mate
Stepped upon a pressure plate.
A bang, a flash, there was no pain –
Another death, so little gain.
He’s coming home on Wednesday night
Aboard a scheduled Air Force flight.
I’ll miss his hug, his cheeky grin –
Forever changed, the world has been.

Stephen Tomkins
2 May 2015