Lest We Forget

In the Forecourt of The Shrine :: Tinto 1848 // Float // No flashIn honour of the brave souls who sacrificed all for their countries and their fellow man, lest we forget:

The Dancers

All day beneath the hurtling shells
Before my burning eyes
Hover the dainty demoiselles—
The peacock dragonflies.

Unceasingly they dart and glance
Above the stagnant stream—
And I am fighting here in France
As in a senseless dream.

A dream of shattering black shells
That hurtle overhead,
And dainty dancing demoiselles
Above the dreamless dead.

Wilfrid Wilson Gibson

A poem of the First World War, from Men Who March Away, edited by I.M Parsons (Heinemann Educational Books, 1987)

Anzac Day, 2013

A Guardian of The Shrine :: Tinto 1848 // Float // No flash