The stinking bodies, trenches deep
The cold, the wet, the lack of sleep,
The noise of guns, the endless roar
Days and months and years of war.
The hopes, the dreams, excited screams
The hugs and kisses in my dreams
My comfy chair, my baby’s stare
I miss them all now I’m not there
Over the top, into the fray
Will we return? ‘Who knows?’ we say
As red as blood the poppies nod
Lest we forget the ones with God
If I’m lucky and survive
I’ll celebrate each year alive
I’ll wear my poppy, lots of pride
Remember friends who cruelly died
Lynda's Blog 
Very powerful piece, Lynda, yet not entirely bleak. Scans very well, and some very successful rhymes.
This is wonderfully written, both powerful and with meaning. Well done!Ross Mannell
Great writing Lynda. The contrast between the horror of the trenches and the warmth and cosiness of home makes it all the more powerful. Love it.
Powerful imagery, especially "stinking bodies, trenches deep," Robin
I agree about the contrast. Very effective.
Your poem scans beautifully and merges home and war , past and present. Great piece.
I thought this was excellent! Moving and embraced so much. Well done you GSussex
This is stunning L! I love the rhythm and flow of it and the joy as well as despair that must have been felt by those at war.
I love this, the imagery, the emotion, the flow. I will certainly be sharing this.