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H. SMALLEY SARSON
Private, Canadian Contingent
Raindrops
RAINDROPS falling,
Falling on the reddened grass
Where through the night battle held full sway,
Like Tears of God that drop in pity, then pass
To wash our guilt away.
The Armed Liner
THE dull grey paint of war
Covering the shining brass and gleaming decks
That once re-echoed to the steps of youth.
That was before
The storms of destiny made ghastly wrecks
Of Peace, the Right and Truth.
Impromptu dances, coloured lights and laughter,
Lovers watching the phosphorescent waves:
Now gaping guns, a whistling shell; and after
So many wandering graves.
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