deepundergroundpoetry.com

Not in the sights

Hold out hold out and bite your tongue
the heckles rise that is so wrong
sing a hymn, a lamp that shone

And we should heed the candle flame
its transience, flickering  in hopes proclaim
 and war not spoil the whole domain

Ploughshares from the melted guns
the ammunition quiet not the screaming thud
the graveyard still, not turned a sod

No eye to line the sights that point
 treaties signed with handshakes  joint
and conflict never come to haunt

The doves of love go flutter free
sprigs of olive twig, healing a bleed
each dawn, small peace decree
 
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