Posted by
Matthew McCluskey on Monday, August 06, 2007 2:05:55 PM
On the hills I often pass and travel down,
there is a field of flowers, where all seem gay,
and men stroll up and down, and all around.
They dream of peace. And dream again.
And oft when they pass the tulips and lilacs,
they walk to the fields of grassland leaves,
here they sense the calm - dream it will last,
and fall asleep inside the rows of pansies -
Just as the wind whistles through the lilies,
the echo of battles long lost and won.
And I? I take my naps among the posies -
for the greatest wars are yet to come.