Forties nights
Forties NightsOn the street corners smoke pots burn,clouds of black acrid smoke rise upand fill the air each in its turn.The bombers come again tonightI hear their throbbing engines roardark is the...
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Great poem, Ivor! You must have been in England. What a terrible ordeal the people there went through, I know. War is hell, as Gen Sheman said in our Civil War, on of the bloodiest in our history.I...
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