Rows of Houses

Rows Of Houses Rows of houses, line of sight, Helmet rooves about knee height, Squinting windows, barrel of gun, War in the garden had begun. Traipsing boots in blooming red, Spike the spear, a rose lay dead, Gullies, trenches, rows of fence, Dared the battle to commence. Rambling thorn and injured men, Muddied faces in a badgers den, Shell shocked sycamore fluttered dim, Love, the enemy withered grim. Twigs and limbs were neatly pruned Crazy paved, the earth doomed, Smoky pires, incendiary bombs, My love and spring lay in tombs. Children digging, banners waving, Mums and dads under crazy paving, Rows of houses, gone askew Yet in the garden a poppy grew. © RJVHorton2016