The Thankful Village

Our men and boys who left us

left their fields, their shops, their trades

left their families and loved ones

left this village, left England

Went as if taken in a trance

their staring eyes

leading them to recruiting stations

and from there to France

They knew suffering and pain

saw the devil in his trench

Hear the whistle

and run towards him screaming

Hear the whistle

And run towards him screaming

In hope returning to our village

to live as they had always done before

Knowing they had done their duty bravely

and never talk again of war

The thankful village welcomes back its soldiers

different men than those who left for France

Men who sit surrounded by their

Hear the whistle

And run towards him screaming

Hear the whistle

And run towards him screaming

Dean Brindley is a Potteries born writer currently studying for an MA in Creative Writing at Keele University.

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