SPRING 1919
(Jim Boyes)

The longest night of darkest dreams heralds the new tomorrow
The morning light, the bright sunbeams can only soften sorrow
From deepest winters harshest cold, there comes a hint of warming gold
And spring returns with tales untold, the frozen earth to borrow

Where winters snow has barely gone, a snowdrop proudly glistens
Hie Robin sings his joyful song if only you would listen
And fractured earth is turning green where only brown and red were seen
And agony has turned serene where sanity went missing

The farmer looks to find his home among the fields of battle
He cannot sing to mark his world, nor even call his cattle
His only comfort is the sky, which stays the same as years go by
But through the tears that dim his eye the misty cannons rattle

Heroes returned to foreign lands have memories to smother
They’ll turn their hands to peaceful work, not like their lonely brother
Who’ll work with gas and shells somehow each time he yokes his careful plough
And with the sweat of his own brow, he’ll venture to recover

In Flanders fields the poppies grow as part of every season
Through winter’s blast the wounds still show as if there was a reason
To show the world the hidden pain, that spring will come and clothe again
But underneath the scars remain and will for generations

There is a story in the Westhoek in Belgium about a farmer who comes back to where he used to live after the First World War and rebuilds his farmhouse. Later, when officialdom arrives to redraw maps and plans, he finds that he has built the house in a different place. Electicity poles in the area are designed with specially-shaped holes in which farmers can deposit recently ploughed-up ordnance. (Jim)

From Coope Boyes & Simpson, As If… (No Masters NMCD35, 2010)