 |
| Western Mail Thursday 9 June 1938 p. 2. |
as you travel away on pass
To Home, Sweet Home, and the dear
ones or may be some sweet lass?
How gay is the motion and clatter.
The whole world seems to smile,
As ever varying scenery flies past you
mile by mile.
The distant views seem to race you,
while the nearer ones romp past
Like folk in a country barn dance
when the merry tune is fast.
How your spirits rise with the speed,
then droop when it slackens down.
And impatient thoughts possess you
when stopped at some wayside town,
Where you worry, fuss and fidget
and call on the Fates to send
Some special power to hasten your
train unto its journey's end.
Till relief comes with the whistle,
when the green flag starts to wave.
And your joy in life rekindles like a
soul snatched from the grave.
But when your leave is over and
you're travelling back again.
The throb of the wheels and engine
is singing a new refrain;
A dreary dirge of No Man's Land,
where the flying bullets hum
Grim warnings of what may happen
quite soon or in days to come.
Though this fails to hold your in-
terest and the landscape fades
from mind
As your thoughts revert to the gay;
times and people left behind.
T.R.F.A., East Dalwallinu.
No comments:
Post a Comment