Jutland and after

HMS Chester was a light cruiser that got within range of German battleships.  She fought and survived but at a terrible cost.

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Closing in for action – Jutland May1916

Across the sea there to the east
Grey forms were steaming fast
Some spewed smoke like some ancient beast
This day could be their last

Great waves form patterns so beware
They roll before the eyes
With complex movement everywhere
Beneath those eerie skies

Each pattern’s change in motions strange
Form part of destiny
So as two fleets came into range
Then what will be will be

The rapid firing of each gun
Resounded through the hull
The belching smoke that dulled the sun
Went on without a lull

A flash upon the forecastle deck
One gun then ceased to fire
It had become a twisted wreck
Become the gunners’ pyre

Another gun fell silent too
Its crew tossed all about
Without legs what were they to do
The lucky soon bled out

One untouched man stood in a daze
A boy bled at his post
As sense came back within this haze
Hell had a new outpost

The horror of the scene was grim
Good mates were bleeding free
His training then it guided him
Like all men on that sea

The toiling crew worked to put out
Some raging fires below
There was no time for hope nor doubt
Before that deadly glow

Those legless gunners got some care
Their stumps were tourniqueted
But Fate it can be so unfair
Each Death was just delayed

The two survivors of the blast
A man and dying boy
Each in their way would be down cast
And never now know joy

 

From: “Jutland and After”
Dedicated to Arthur Wicks who lived through the battle and relived it for 50 years.

Wondrous World!

My, we can be led a merry dance when trying to get the simplest of things, like an honest answer, from any of those shits who are in office.

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Wondrous world!

But all are led a merry dance
Through all the scenes of circumstance
And there’s so much that’s done by chance

The world’s a wondrous place for those
Who are not led out by the nose
And there’s no thorn upon the rose

But most of us who have been born
Will get our hands so badly torn
And get no rose just grab the thorn

The Fates it seems, to take their ease
Will drive Hope down upon its knees
And leave the poor out doors to freeze

The way it seems events pan out
In such a way that there’s no doubt
In life most face a brutal rout

Over the top and sacrificed for others’ pelf

Henry Arthur Morgan died in a shell hole at the Somme in 1916.  He is recorded as dying in May 1918.  That was the date his body was reburied after being moved from a small temporary graveyard.

That was shoddy record keeping.

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Ordered when they were alive
Honoured now they are long dead
Where liars grew so fat and thrive
Of those follies nothing’s said

War’s all about profit and loss
Lads were not allowed to choose
Fat liars did not give a toss –
Ah, some must win and some must lose!

Run away and they’d be shot
No man’s land is filled with dead
Great heroes ought not be forgot
Eternity is coloured red

Some survive where others fall
Live on haunted by their dreams
Yet there’s no glorious clarion call
For so little’s as it seems

Suits worn got from Saville Row
Stand before the Cenotaph
Those in those suits had known not woe
I choose to cry and not to laugh

Balance sheets got totted up
Stock holders had turned a buck
Though they’d not supped the sacred cup
Mid the blood, the mud, the muck

Ordered when they were alive
Honoured now they are long dead
Where liars grew so fat and thrive
Of such folly nothing’s said

Book

Saga of Sabah – and other Sagas of the Sea

book

I have a book of poems published in Sabah, Malaysia.

Sabah State Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
Trevor Morgan, Saga of Sabah and other Sagas from the Sea
ISBN 978-967-11517-8-5
1. Poetry–Environmental aspects–Sabah
2. Borneo–Foreign relations–Indonesia
I. Sabah State Library
808.81

This is copyright and may not be kept in storage in any media in the United Kingdom

Buku Saga 1

Kulit Saga 1

Feathers ruffled

I wrote this on 21 September 2001 at the Falconry centre on the Isle of Mull I was watching a display but my mind was elsewhere. It was a sad time.

 

Feathers Ruffled

Bald eagle with a damaged wing
Hawks guided in as planned
We hear a carrion vulture sing
Where dead flesh is at hand

Bald eagle has small feathers harmed
Hawks dead upon the ground
The vulture’s kind now cower alarmed
The eagle makes no sound

The vulture hides deep in a hole
From justice that is planned
Yet in his dark deceitful soul
He thinks he is God’s hand

Some time from out the sun’s stark rays
We’ll hear the vulture’s dead
And where the well fed eaglet plays
The ground is coloured red

 

21 September 2001