by James Sale
Give the gunshot all you have –
Old men don’t notice as they rave
Who passes to the silent land.
Or how scythes cut, or which way,
That bleeding terror night and day
Which passes to the silent land.
There’s nothing in the world beside
Will make mankind deny his bride,
But passing to the silent land.
There goes from out the Earth this cry:
The point of life is to die
Through passing to the silent land.
Gird loins and with a prayer thrice times
Invoke one Spirit of these crimes:
He passes too the silent land.
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ABOUT THE POET ~
James Sale has been a writer for over 40 years, and has had over 20 books published, including 7 collections of poetry, and one best seller: York Notes Macbeth (Pearsons). He was a runner-up in the 1997 Capricorn International Short story and poetry competition with his entry, Present at my Father’s Death. Most recently his poems have appeared in the UK in the magazines Towards Wholeness, Quaker News and Views, The Wall: Bournemouth Central Library Exhibition; internationally in Heavenly Hymns: the 10th International Collection of English Poems; plus in the USA in The Anglo Theological Review, and The Society of Classical Poets in which he won 2nd Prize in their 2014 Annual Poetry Competition with three of his poems.
Last updated April 06, 2015