Poem of the week
Into Thy hands let me fall, O Lord –
Not into the hands of men –
And she thinned the ranks of the savage horde
Till they shrunk to the mangrove fen.
In a rudderless boat, with scanty store
Of food for the fated three –
With her babe and her stricken servitor
She fled to the open sea.
Oh, days of dolor and nights of drouth,
While she watched for a sail in vain,
Or the tawny tinge of a river mouth,
Or the rush of the tropic rain.
The valiant woman! Her feeble oar
Sufficed, and her fervent prayer
Was heard, though she reached but a barren shore, ...
Two Soldiers, Two flyers
Queensland Poetry in WWII
It seems that one of the most fertile environments for the creation of poetry is an extreme emotional experience followed by a period of idleness. It is probably for that reason that combatants in that most awful of human activities, war, produce so many fine poems. In Australia, during the second World War, one anthology alone, Poets at War featured poems written by more than 70 service men and women.
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