(25 November 1890 – 1 April 1918 / Bristol / England)

Give Me Your Hand

Give your hand and share the divine
O- man, -in love and fellow feelings
You humane-beacon truly shines.
Give your hand and be mine.

What a wonder of assurance,
In smoky confusion and suspense,
Comes alive in support and trust,
Give your hand, and give you must.

Give your hand to invoke joy, and dispel fear,
To yoke my unequal with your glory, and share,
And install service of watery base,
Give me your hand, -hey divine race.

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Comments (8)

You can tell he was also a painter. From the way this poem is written, it’s obvious he writes with a paint brush. The images he paints with his pen force his readers to see the scene in a way that makes it more vivid. And horrific. And not just from one angle. We see the scene first through the eyes of someone carrying wire up the line on limbers and running over dead bodies, then we see it through the eyes of a dying man, and finally we see it from the limber-driver's perspective again. The view from the dying soldier's eyes is particularly disturbing. It is the wagon wheels, the mules' hooves and quivering bellies we see from ground level upwards. The reader won’t easily forget this haunting poem.
........just finished his statement of biography and true it says, he enlisted....and sadly later passed away at the age of 28, and was first buried in a mass grave himself...until later identified ★
........an imaginative write I'm not so sure....sounds as if the poet lived this experience ★
Man born of man, and born of woman! Nice work.
It is a tragedy to remember or imagine the fear and death of man in cold blood and the poet in his imagination created the story in a specific event and it is a success.
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