Steven Cooke Poet Free verse

The Riddle

To be, or not to be,
That was Shakespeare’s question 
A riddle, or were we handed the Baton

The pen is mightier than the sword
Yet we rarely take this on board
In War it’s the guns who decide the question

For to be, is to make War
And not to be, are the victims of War
There are no sides in death,
No victories, no defeats,
Only faceless victims, wars receipts

And if we are all, not to be
Would god survive in his silent abbey?
And who will remember we
That is the real question.

A century approaches for World War 1
No survivors left 
 For all the Tommie’s are dead
And war still rears its dreadful head
And it is we, who are left to ponder,
To swear upon Gods Alter

“To be, in peace, for the earth is our mother
Not to be, at war, with our sisters and brothers.

And the bard can sleep a poets dream
Of sunsets and moonbeams
Of rivers and oceans and far off lands
For dreams confirm our conscience
And peace confirms our existence.

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Elizabeth Wesley November 29, 2011 at 5:53 PM You write some great truths in the 3rd stanza. Love how you add and give meaning to what the bard himself says. You always have something important to say in your rhyme Steven, I always get something to think about. P S Your visits are so special, thenk you my friend for your kind comments PPS Such a nice pic of you! :)