Poem for review

joeystrider

I would like if someone could review this for me...


The garden was our battleground,
Our hurleys our arms,
As we set off to fight our enemy.

Bang… Bang Bang… Bang… Bang

“You’re Dead! You’re Dead!”
We each said,
As our imagined foes opened fire,
Yet the deceased insisted that the
Mortal Wounds
Were but grazes.

In our sentry tree tops
We awaited attack on tenterhooks
Looking this way and that
For Nazis and Tommies and Charlie.

In the trenches of the strawberry bed
I followed my higher ranked brother
As missiles and mortars rocketed over head.

We threw pine comb grenades into the hostile zone,
Then described what we saw
As the shrapnel pulled at flesh and bone.

The horror of twilight stole upon us
And though the war was near to end
We had no idea
Which shadow was foe or friend.

As we waded home
Through the ten tree jungle
I stayed close to my brother
For fear I should stumble.

And just as desperation neared
Along with the enemy feared
A sweet cry
“dinner”
Announced our Armistice.

Then we ate and slept and dreamt tactics for the morrow.


http://unabpowerful.blogspot.com/

http://twitter.com/joeystrider

i-digress

I loved it. Loved it, loved it, loved it. One thing, I think you mean 'pine cones' rather than 'pine combs'. Flows really well. The second half could do with being tightened up, but the rhythm was excellent.

joeystrider

Thank you! It's nice to get real criticism. Pine combs is what I grew up saying, maybe a colloquialism, so I decided to retain it. But thank you.

pickarooney

A1 Bosco, a lovely wee poem. I thought the same about pine combs but there are tons of words like that I grew up hearing/saying wrongly that just don't sound right when said correctly.

joeystrider

I just like that you said Bosco. My hair is rather like his at the mo...