Gallipoli : 29 lines of Blank Verse about the aftermath of the battle at Gallipoli.
Early morning mist shrouds the foreshore
wavering moodily with the chilly sea-breeze,
teasingly giving glimpses of ghostly images of pale soldiers
crucified in disciplined rows in blue-grey gun-smoke,
facing the unseen enemy on the surrounding gloomy slopes
or perhaps gazing wistfully towards the homelands they have so irrevocably left.
Ocean breakers monotonously chop at the moist silence,
liquidly marking the passage of time,
the falling of tears,
the passing of life,
the movement of history.
