Berezina, Frozen river of blood

The empire of France
Was defeated in Russia
Napoleon’s system
No longer insured epic victory
Defeated at last
The genius general failed the task
Defeated, but not by any single action
But by all of them
Weather, war, distance



The prize of victory lured
But the difficulties of the task
Destroyed the ability
To endure
To retreat without hope
To be cast out from Russia
In the worst of its seasons
Winter froze the country
By early November
And the hunger
And despair
And fear
Trapped them there



Before the river Berezina
Normally frozen
Now strangely thawed
To escape miracles were needed
The toll of human pain
Cannot be assessed
But 40,000 died
Now in permanent rest
In the flows of the river
Berezina



Russian cavalry pursued
The remnant invasion force would flee
Berezina still flowed
Was a cold lonely burial place
Indeed

A Poet's funeral

watching the pyre light
watching the flames rise
smoke and life fled remains
the skies blacken again
from our man made storm
we say good bye to a friend
the pyre begins to burn
the flames rise and churn
crackling embers and sparks
he lays there, peacefully
and finally the flames make their mark
and in moments his flesh is gone
he returns to where he was all along
in our memory
not the charred flesh we see
now

This is England

Whether arch villain possessed of anger
Or anti Christ has ascended to threaten
Black bright, loud, avian messengers
Calling, telling, empowering
Alert us to the Crusade ahead
England shall never fall to foreign invader
So long as there dwells ravens at the Tower
Powerful emissaries of life
Bringers of the portents of death
We must not ignore them
Or our flesh and lands will die
Rising from our decay
The Ravens call upon us to live
Bringing wisdom from the ancient days
Telling us to be humble, telling us to be great
For they are gifted with sight given by the Gods
We are heroes fighting the tide of Saxons
We are common folk
Joined in desperation in the evening hour
Rising to defend our country from the Blitz
With little more than flesh and sweat and hands
We are England, and the Ravens are in the Tower
For now, and ever, this is our land