Ian G. Winstanley

HARVEST OF IRON: BEAUMONT HAMEL

A glorious summer day:
The guns had hammered on and on,
Sowing the flinty soil
With seeds of rough iron.
Sterile seeds,
Watered by the blood
Of a Nation’s youth,
Spawning only death and mutilation.

A glorious summer day
Eighty years on:
The seeds of iron are harvested
By a new youth,
Excited by their search,
Each find sowing
The seeds of remembrance
In young minds.