A poem for Remembrance Sunday

From_the_Vicar
Several folk have asked me about the extract of the poem that I used as part of my sermon on Remembrance Sunday.  The poem is about civilian experience of the Blitz in London during the Second World War, and the extract was from the third section of the poem  'The Burning of the Leaves' by Laurence Binyon.


Stooping and feeble, leaning on a stick,

An old man with his vague feet stirs the dust,

Searching a strange world for he knows not what

Among haphazard stone and crumbled brick.

He cannot adjust

What his eyes see to memory's golden land,

Shut off by the iron curtain of today:

The past is all the present he has got.

Now, as he bends to peer

Into the rubble, he picks up in his hand

(Death has been here!)

Something defaced, naked and bruised: a doll,

A child's doll, blankly smiling with wide eyes

And oh, how human in its helplessness!

Pondered in weak fingers

He holds it puzzled: wondering, where is she

The small mother

Whose pleasure was to clothe it and caress,

Who hugged it with a motherhood foreknown,

Who ran to comfort its imagined cries

And gave it pretty sorrows for its own?

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