And the feisty fountain’s sparkling noises
The gravel paths crunch under feet
Of lovers hand-in-hand who meet.
Upon a bench floodlit by sun
My jacket open, it is fun
To observe the scenes that now unfold
As spring replaces winter cold.
Rucksacked students on the grass
Young mums with prams go strolling past
Hardy youths in shirts and shorts
Maybe a sports team, out for walks
Across the vast expanse that lies
With the Arch as backdrop on the rise
Parade ground, museums, panorama
Memories of conflict and high drama.
The Belgian flag still flutters free
And silently beckons - just to me
But no one else pays any heed
In twenty-fourteen there’s no need.
And yet … one hundred years ago
The Winds of War began to blow
All swore allegiance to this flag
And millions died; how very sad…
(c) Poet in the woods 2014
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