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Where Wild Flowers Grow.

Where Wild Flowers Grow.

Children playing in the evening sun
running around, just having fun.
Dogs chasing balls happy to play
rolling in the grass late in the day.
A couple sitting on the ground
trying not to make a sound.
Where so much happened, long ago
on the field where wild flowers grow.

This was a place long before
where men shed blood in a war.
A place of such horror and pain
where men fought and men were slain.
Living in trenches with blood stained pools
with weapons of war, their only tools.
It’s hard to imagine, long ago
on the field where wild flowers grow.

Fledgling birds are trying to fly
into the bright evening sky.
Someone there is trying to pray
children think it’s a place for play.
But you can still clearly see
where the trenches used to be.
Life is so different, than long ago
on the field where wild flowers grow.

An old man stands on his own
he seems content to be alone.
With tears rolling down his face
haunted by memories of this place.
He was here when he was young
cold and scared carrying his gun.
When life was harsh, long ago
on the field where wild flowers grow.

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Editing stage: 

Comments

been a while since I've seen you post anything! Welcome back. I really like what you have here, it reads very well for the most part. A few little quibbles, but nothing major. I like the theme, the title and most of all, that you rhyme. I'm not sure what your usual mode is, but you did this very well. It should be " living in trenches [and] blood stained pools and "[their] only tools" Other than that, I liked everything about this. Hope you stick around and write some more. BTW. You should enter our month of August contest. There is the chance to win a $25. gift certificate from Amazon. Just go to the contest icon and check it out. ~ Geezer.
.

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

Thanks Geezer,
Always a pleasure to hear from you and see your comments.
My wife picked up on the spelling mistake as well so both things now corrected!
It comes naturally for me to rhyme and I prefer to. I don't understand why some people seem to think it's just an easy option, it is not! Surely free verse is. But we all have our own opinions and I have written a small amount of free verse.
Take care, Tim

author comment

on the field where wild flowers grow
you have a particular style
some kind of a
PHANTOUM one

but you do me remind
of years gone by
where I used to live

now these are only memories
but where nothing now grows
no flowers nor grass also
gone with the wind
is the land
now desert like full of sand
and yet
how I'd wish to add

''on the field where wild flowers grow''
but sad
I will be called mad....

to have associated with you
AM I G L A D
an old lad!

Love your comment, thank you. Tim

author comment

Great to see you back after a years absence.
Loved this piece it had a story and depth.
A thought process turned into a work.
I have written about this place a while back it seems to grab at our imagination and beliefs that they gave everything for us, as the tears of the old man depicted.
My Father was in that war but in Egypt, just sand no trenches as such.
Take care don't go away for so long,
Yours Ian.. (Ian.T)

.
Give critique to help keep Neopoet great.
Unconditional love to you all.
"Learn to love yourself first"
Yours as always, Ian.T, Sparrow, and Yenti

Hi Ian,
Great to here from you again and of course I always appreciate your comments.
You take care,
Tim

author comment

The influence of lyric is obvious, and this would make a great ballad.
(It does have some of the aspects of Pete Seeger's Where have all the flowers gone).

I ran a short workshop of Poetry VS Song Lyrics and I came out with a personal aesthetic- what makes each unique. I would like to continue, it's such an interesting subject. Perhaps you might join us?

Eumolpus
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

Thank you my friend.
There is nothing more rewarding and encouraging than reading comments from different parts of the world like this. I am not a man who is easily filled with self belief, but I am becoming more confident as time goes by that my poetry is at least worthy of being called that!
Best wishes to you and yours,
Tim

author comment

Thank you my friend.
There is nothing more rewarding and encouraging than reading comments from different parts of the world like this. I am not a man who is easily filled with self belief, but I am becoming more confident as time goes by that my poetry is at least worthy of being called that!
Best wishes to you and yours,
Tim

author comment

Hi Mark,
and thank you for your thoughtful comment. It's a good feeling to know I made a connection with you.
Regards from us all in the UK.

Tim

author comment

Far too many wild flowers have been fertilized by the blood of men.........stan OOPS! forgot to say I liked the poem lol......

Thanks Stan, glad you dropped by. Tim

author comment
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