The Light of day Is Cold and Grey
Written by David Rhys Geraint Jones, a soldier and poet serving with 3rd Battalion, Monmouthshire Regiment
He was one of the many who made the ultimate sacrifice in Normandy.
He landed on 15 June 1944 died aged 22 on 28 June.
The light of day is cold and grey and there is no more peace,
By the high white moon-washed walls, where we laughed and where we sung;
And I can’t go back to those days of short unthinking ease,
When I was very foolish and you were very young.
For you the laurel and the rose will bloom, and you will see
The dawn’s delight, firelight on rafters, wind, seas, and thunder,
Children asleep and dreams and hearts at ease, when life will be,
Even at its close, a quiet and an ageless wonder.
For me the poppies soon will dance and sway in Haute Avesnes:
The sunrise of my love slides into dusk, its day untasted:
Yet as I lie, turf-clad, and freed of passion, and of pain,
I find my sacrifice of golden things not wasted;
Your peace is bought with mine, and I am paid in full, and well,
If but the echo of your laughter reaches me in hell.
In My Heart
IA man is a human being
and time is a time out…
Building his world
blossoming in his garden.
There was a man,
lost in his time.
Building his world,
planting his gardens with flowers.
In my heart.
In my body.
In my spirit.
In my bosom .
Our land.
You are our blood.
You are our soul.
You are our lives.
Our world.
In my body.
In my spirit.
In my bosom.
Our Land
You are in my blood.
You are in my soul.
You are with me.
You are the salt of the sea,
the light and the truth,
the salt and the sea,
that is you.
The truth and the light,
awake or dreaming,
in my eyes, in my feelings,
you are my love.
The truth and the light,
happy or sad,
in my eyes, in my feelings,
you are my love.
