The Flames Of War Poem by Jon Holloway

The Flames of War

In the cool blue morning she woke
She gave the prowling cat a stroke

She chose ear rings of fake gold
And gave her children a last hold

Off to work through damaged streets
Just to sort out some balance sheets

Up the stairs someone runs with news
A missile has landed in the mews

Rushing back she finds a heap of rubble
Her mind screams and frets at all the trouble

Her cherished children are now all gone
The remaining neighbours gather as one

Looking up and away from the scene
Thinking about what had previously been

Tears in her bright blue eyes
As flames reach up for the skies

I saw the photograph in a newspaper
I made it into a dark T-shirt later

When I wear the shirt
I think of political dirt

Jon.H