Arrived!

He arrived early at the remote film location

wooded with a grassy clearing

he could hear voices and laughter not alone

but upon searching was nothing

it was a freezing autumn morning but clear

as the chatter continued very near!

 

Faint outlines of people certain he had seen

darting in grass and through trees

as if a community was actually living here

or was it the rising mist and nature

just waking from the darkness of the night

and his imagination did alight!

 

So tired from getting little sleep to be here

as an extra on a television drama

unusually early crew were normally there

or at least the caterers on site

retreated back to his car felt very exposed

trying hard to stay composed!

 

Checking his watch realised it was only five

could not block out the sounds

light shone in the distance at last not alone

vehicles came and parked near

the large catering truck trundled into sight

much to the young mans delight!

 

Soon was far from alone and also learned

this was the set for a ghost story

based on an event that had happened here

a mass murder at the farmhouse

had he seen their spirits in the early dawn

into their spiritual realm drawn?

 

Throughout that day was always uneasy

but put it out of his mind

until somebody else said they had seen

a child in one of the rooms

another voices in the grounds and trees

an unpleasant smell on the breeze!

 

Filming is still going on with a growing disquiet!

 

#TheFoureyedPoet.

 

 

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The Tattered Flag!

On the edge of an open field hung the tattered flag

the only indication of the battle

long forgotten the torment of lost innocence

or names of the fallen soldiers

one more conflict where nothing had been won

there a feeling of death still hung!

 

Bodies buried in shallow graves where each fell

young lives ended in torment

grass now covered the site and sheep grazed

where restless souls still roam

no cannon or musket fire nor smell of cordite

as two armies clash in the fight!

 

Silence is what greets the visitor to this field

pleasant during daylight hours

as the shadows lengthen a mist hangs low

and voices have been heard

crying out longingly on the endless breeze

rustling the grass and trees!

 

The tattered flag blows proudly in its salute

to those nameless soldiers

from long ago whose spirits will never leave

all those families of the fallen

remember their ancestors ultimate sacrifice

in war a cruel and futile device!

 

The tattered flag remains as a remembrance!

 

The Foureyed Poet.

 

 

 

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