Boxing On

There's a heavy distant rumble
As the lingering sun sinks low
And there's flashing of artillery
In the battle's ebb and flow;
And the searchlight ever flickers
Seeking, seeking for a sign
Of the enemy in motion
Down the line.

Now the din creeps ever nearer
Til the air is rocked with sound
And the rifles and machine guns
Get to business, all around;
And there sounds the devil's chorus
The discordant notes of hell,
When the guns boom forth their greetings
In unceasing bursts of shell.

But at last the gunfire slackens
And reluctantly draws to a close
As the sound stunned weary gunners
Seek a short, hard-earned repose;
And only the sentry's rifle
And machine gun's deadly breath,
Remain to remind the wakeful
Of nations in grips to the death.

Pte Charles H. Brekell, 19th Batt AIF

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2007 Selected Poetry
The Poets Garret
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