William RIDDELL'S WWI poem

[Alan SHARP]

Greetings all.

Seeing poems are the order of the day, here is a copy of William RIDDELL'S poem that I have been working on, with the help of TalkingScot. I recently got access to more of William's diary, covering the period of the poem, but have been too busy, at this time, to further that research. What we do now know, is that it was actually just over the boarder in Heuvelland, Messines, Belgium, where the young soldier, Clarence Welch, was buried, in the St Quentin Cabaret, Military Cemetery.

The poem was written, years later, for the children of the local Gordonton Primary School, here in New Zealand, as part of their ANZAC Day [April 25th] observance.

A Garden in France. [Belgium]

Two wars at least have taken toll of boys who once were on our roll
And we would do well to remember those who stand between us and our foes
Would you listen to this while I briefly tell of one who stood and while standing fell
One day while strolling in far off France I entered a garden where I hoped to chance
On ripened red or black current berry or better still a luscious cherry
A deserted garden all gone wild once the playground of happy child

War had come and the owner fled leaving his home in direct dread
I saw as I entered that in a corner stood ten little crosses made of wood
Though each one marked some mothers’ son they left me cold till I came to one
One that at this very school sat on my left on the same stool
A sturdy boy with smiling face a worthy sample of our race
In the same standard for two school years we shared our lessons, pranks and fears

And now his name on a cross is written another life foul war had smitten
Though we had long since parted ways my thoughts went back to those school days
By parted ways to that garden came and then all I saw was just his name
Though his body lay beneath the sod his soul had gone on to meet his god
His name which once my heart did gladden would now my spirits forever sadden
Sadden for those who in prime of life fall victim to mad war and strife

I thought of another from that same home who some months before was killed on the Somme
The night was fine the air quite still with plenty of noise just over the hill
Machine guns rattle and field guns belch while I stood by the grave of Clarence Welch
With passing years ones feelings harden my thoughts oft go back to that garden
And I remember again what I thought then as I stood by that grave among the ten
And remember now my memory trends to think of all other Absent Friends

WILLIAM RIDDELL

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TalkingScot links on a work in progress:-

A search for background info re the Wm RIDDELL poem.

viewtopic.php?f=32&t=16005&p=127855&hil ... LL#p127855

William RIDDELL and his recollections re family history.

viewtopic.php?f=11&t=15921&p=127223&hil ... LL#p127223

Alan SHARP.

[Anne H]

A very moving poem, Alan.

Regards,
Anne H

[paddyscar]

God bless them for giving their all for us. Thank you for the touching poem, Alan. It is a privilege to read his poem.

Frances