“Bring the wind” by Dean Reeves

396e526c38c76d48ff81bd9f16336051

It was just and righteous to hammer, with all industry and might,

Upon the hateful furnace.

The bell ring revelations of evil deeds silenced, tempered by tears of sorrow,

And regret we stood too long.

But how proudly we then stood atop the extinguished pyre of tyranny,

Determined that never again would flames of hate prevail nor fabled beasts release.

We would stand together in sunlight to build a free world along bountiful rivers wide,

Walls which divided us did finally crumble, and muted voices gently but certain raised.

Identities once cloistered and suppressed were revealed and celebrated,

Castles of certainty would fall but there would be no sharing of the spoils.

Joyful rain filled puddles of hope across a continent once aflame in despair,

But the clouds did not stay, and from memory embers of past bonfires passed.

Today in Aleppo and Homs choked in smoke, amid broken bodies rested in rubble,

But their pleas unheard above the clang from the politics of fear.

War, greed, and desperate need crept as ancient chimera looked for her prey, sweeping up all hostility and ignorance to feast another day.

A pile of rotted timbers, of prejudice, hate and greed sit askew; with a waiting fire cat spitting by aside,

Oh humanity stand tall with axe blade, chip them fine and scatter to a fierce wind.

aleppo-strike-852-04013259

“I will tell God everything I saw” was the last sentence uttered by a Syrian child before he died of injuries caused by one of the Assad regime’s barrel bombs.

http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2016/jan/29/syria-moderate-opposition-president-assad-islamic-state-regime-isis?CMP=share_btn_tw

Dean Reeves

 

My Poetry

Ghost Tree

The First Fen Blow

You should look away

I have not woken 

Bottled Love

War end

A lover’s touch

Siesta

Beauty of her nature 

Fierce Love

The Rat

My Moody Girl

We have met before…

You are….

Looking Up

Mr.Daffodil

Stare of the Moon

Holding the thread

Mr.Moth

Stone cold love

The imps are feasting

I am more than a tree

Wisbech Morning

The bleeding fields of Naseby

I did not cry

We are England

Curtain Call

Do not pity the English

Turning Left

Prosperity of Evil

Bang Up

“The Return of Black Shuck”

“I saw You” by Dean Reeves

“Bring the wind” by Dean Reeves

“I choose” by Dean Reeves

“Forgotten Dancer” by Dean Reeves

“Market Day” by Dean Reeves

Advertisements

4 comments

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s