Colin F. Jones

THE SONS OF MOTHERS

We who have seen… will not stop seeing,
There is no point debating nor agreeing,
Why throw salt into the raging sea,
The ships that sank we will forever see.
Tis as the snow that falls in winter time,
It melts away and thaws to icy slime,
But it returns again when summer fails,
And the winds of autumn whines and wails,
The grass grows green and the rivers run,
And the smoke of war rises with the Sun,
For life on Earth was always just like this,
A brief romance and a fleeting kiss,
Hope, and love and old wise eyes that cry,
When the sons of mothers go to war and die.