PHOENIX IN THE SKY

If I pray hard enough
Will you come back?
Without you the sun's gone
The skies have turned black.
The rivers have ceased flowing
All lakes have dried up,
The bread has gone stale
No wine in my cup.
The birds have ceased singing
No bees left to hum,
My heart has stopped beating
My mind has gone numb.

I miss you so much
Why did you have to die?
In life you were a butterfly
Now a phoenix in the sky.

I think of you always
I've still a tear in my eye,
I kiss the remaining picture of you
And that's when I cry.
The times we held hands
Walked by the sea on powdery sand,
And all of a sudden
The Lord made his demand.
He wanted a new Angel
To sit by his side,
And he called out to you
The almighty cannot be denied.

But, I miss you so much

WAR BOW

WAR BOW

Bowyers fashioned and carved
A warbow made of the finest yew,
From which a deadly arrow
The bodkin flew.
French Knights in finest armour
In their thousands slew,
By English archers at Agincourt.

The heavy destrier horses
Tried to dash,
Across the mud,
Henrys line to smash.
Into the storm
Flying arrows of ash,
Sent by the English archers at Agincourt.

The deadly war bow
Had won the day,
The common man
Now held sway.
A killing machine
What made King Charles pay,
Destroyed by the English archers at Agincourt.

Hempen string
Woven for power,
In thousands could send
A hail shower.
French men at arms
Could only cower,
Under the barrage from the English archers at Agincourt.

Henry V made
His famous ‘Band of Brothers’,
Train at the ‘Butts’,
Gaining power like no other.
Accuracy which snatched
A son from his mother,
The skilful English archer at Agincourt.

The war bow a symbol
Of the archers might,
The goose feathered darts
An awesome sight.
Piercing armour clad warrior
And mounted knight.
Slain by the English archer at Agincourt.

Today in churchyards
Yews shadows are cast,
Bowyer and Archer are just
Names from the past.
The war bow its place in history
Will always last,
Made legend by the English archer at Agincourt.

“We few, we happy few
We band of brothers
He who sheds blood on the field
With me today,
Shall be my brother”

From Henry V
By
William Shakespeare
Battle of Agincourt 1415.

Phil Hall  March 2103
Copyright:Philthepoet61.blogspot.com
Picture:Phil Hall Crapart 2017 (Dead of Knight)