The White Magnolia Tree

 

Twas early spring whenPaul & me

stood beneath the blooms of the white magnolia tree

The flush of youth was there to see

we were the new kings of all we could see

truth was disguised in the lands oh so far

and we lived in innocence no wound or scar.

At seven the world was a great place to be

with our catapault sticks beneath the blooms of the white magnolia tree.

 

Summmers shone and winters thawed successively

beneath the blooms of the White magnolia Tree

our names were carved with loves first blossoms

beneath the bark for all just to see

and we span our dreams and weaved our hopes

captured innocent hearts and learned our ropes

seventeen there was still so much to see

from the hill where stood the White magnolia tree

 

Autumns fell and springtimes skipped

we were given arms and overseas trips

in the muddy trenches of flander fields

all hope was lost all life revealed

All youth once sacred was slaughtered in scree

as bodies fell unknown before me

I just heard the name and I wished I could be

with you right then neath the white magnolia tree

 

Canons fired and shells propelled

years passed as inches were gained and reheld

sanity teetered like blooms amongst shells

and innocence died in the fires of the hell

We followed the leader over the top

Paul was behind me he need to stop

The ground blew apart between him and me

in the crater we fell but in parts he would be

 

Deafness and silence lightning and rain

the legless torso mangled and maimed

youth once so hopeful destroyed in the flame

battered and broken my friend shall be claimed

Over the fences I dragged him to be

in the safety of England in the french country

Within his tunic a letter of what things might be

beneath the boughs of the white magnolia tree

 

Summers and silence lips with no sounds

familiar faces show pity and frowns

I weep at the hill where our youth used to be

Beneath the bent branches

Of the white magnolia tree