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Despair

The long and tedious months move slowly by
And February's chill has fled away
Before the gales of March, and now e'en they
Have died upon the peaceful April sky:
And still I sadly wander, still I sigh,
And all the splendour of each Springtime day
Is dyed, for me, one melancholy grey,
And all its beauty can but make me cry.
 
For thou art silent, Oh! far distant friend,
And not one word has come to cheer my heart
Through these sad months, which seem to have no end,
So distant seems the day which bade us part!
Oh speak! dear fair-haired angel! Spring has smiled,
And I despair - a broken-hearted child.
 
FRANCE, 1917.
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Submitted on August 03, 2020

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Paul Bewsher

Born in England in 1894 Paul Bewsher first served during World War 1 in the Royal Naval Air Service from 1915 - 1918, he was shot down once during this period of service. He then moved into the Royal Air force from 1918 until 1919. He was awarded the Distinguished Sevices Cross. My poems (3)Titles list. more…

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