Souls of the 1914 Honey Moon

It’s the night of the Honey Moon tonight, June 13th 2014.

For just one night all the souls from a hundred years ago come back to life. It was such a moon then in June 1914, just before the Great War started. Hundreds of thousands of young ones were about to die.

Their souls lay still, in time, waiting to return on the next honey moon.

Fragile white moths flitting about like ghosts of fairies across our gardens. Delicate, small, almost transparent butterflies moving from bush to bush. Sweet bees balancing on heads of chive flowers, resting. Wasps among cotoneaster buds, humming their war songs.

Each one on a task. Each one a sacred soul.




Martyrdom V Exile

Don’t ask why I wasn’t there

All the time

If ever

Don’t ask whether I chose to be

In another place

Don’t ask

Take your glory

For being there

For being a martyr

But don’t ask

Why I wasn’t there

Don’t expect me to

To praise your self-righteousness

Or to think my feelings

Were less than yours

My sorrow is of a different kind

And you will never know

You are too concerned with

Playing a saint