Sylvia Daly continues the blog's theme of remembrance of war this week. To our mind, her use of the traditional sonnet form, her choice of language and imagery echo the startling, subversive poetry that came out of the First World War - except here, Sylvia speaks as a woman and a mother.
War Cry!
A Sonnet by Sylvia Daly
Why do old men send our young to make war?
Flag-waving, bugle blown patriot lies,
teaching them hatred and how to abhor
masks envy of youth in manly disguise.
Women face death every time they give birth.
Blood, sweat and tears and great pain all endured
to give another a life on this earth,
and then watch, as to death each son is lured.
The final insult, killing our young.
Rending the bond we have forged with our blood.
We’d defend to the death life from us sprung
by pruning old wood, not the sprouting bud.
The murderous scream of the mother’s rage
is strangled by warlords through every age.
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