Aberdare, 07.09.1939,
A place of humble tranquillity
Overlooking a wilderness of breath-taking scenes…
A place in my heart that I call home.
A place I would never see again,
Yet always be in my thoughts and dreams…
Walsall, two years hence,
I was under cover.
Assigned to uncover a double agent,
A fellow Glamorgan,
Alias – Roper…
He was called so
Due to his persistency in recruiting,
Via blackmailing, his recruits...
A showdown ensued,
Only a few days after locating their den.
There were three, including Roper.
I feared I would never see my family or home again.
Never to feel the soft warmth of my parent’s arms.
Never to taste homemade Welsh Cakes.
Never to embrace the breath-taking beauty
Of humble tranquillity.
I was right of course;
But not through death,
But having to assume a new identity.
Then flee to Australia
To live as a waitress in a five star hotel…
Always missing my family and home.
Always missing the breath-taking scenes and
Homemade Welsh cakes…
The two recruits were dead by my hands,
After they gave me a few bruises and scrapes…
Roper, had got away
And would stop at nothing to find me…
YOU ARE READING
War Poems: Muse to Remember - (By David Hurt)
PoetryPhoto by klickr.co.uk A selection of War Poems, by me, dedicated to the loss of all who met their end, during WWI & WWII. Loss of Civilians, Soldiers and Spies... Here is a sample poem. David Hurt's - Canaries Unsung heroines of war, fraught with...
