Orbler
Byron Twain
Brenton
Dexter
Jeanne Dininni
Shilpa KarhikANZAC Day Poems
April 25th 2008 02:38
Loss for freedom.
A banner from last years Anzac Ceremony
Taking a deviation from the usual format, for today in Australia and New Zealand it is a public holiday named ANZAC day. ANZAC stands for Australian & New Zealand Army Corp. Celebrated on April 25th each year the holiday is all about remembering our fallen veterans of combat who fought in WWI.
April 25th marks the first major battle where the “diggers” fought side by side in heated combat. The conflict that took place on the Turkish peninsula of Gallipoli was bloody and devastating with an Aussie and Kiwi body count in excess of 10,000 over 8 months.
In honour of the soldiers who passed and also the ones that survived here are some poems I found on the net to commemorate the day.
A call to arms poster
ANZAC Day (Poems courtesy of anzacday.org.au)
By: D. Hunter
(A veteran of Shaggy Ridge with the 2/12 Battalion in WW2)
I saw a kid marchin’ with medals on his chest.
He marched alongside Diggers marching six abreast.
He knew that it was ANZAC Day - he walked along with pride.
He did his best to keep in step with the Diggers by his side.
And when the march was over the kid was rather tired.
A Digger said “Whose medals, son?” to which the kid replied:
“They belong to daddy, but he did not come back.
He died up in New Guinea on a lonely jungle track”.
The kid looked rather sad then and a tear came to his eye.
The Digger said “Don’t cry my son and I will tell you why.
Your daddy marched with us today - all the blooming way.
We Diggers know that he was there - it’s like that on ANZAC Day”.
The kid looked rather puzzled and didn’t understand,
But the Digger went on talking and started to wave his hand.
“For this great land we live in, there’s a price we have to pay
For we all love fun and merriment in this country where we live.
The price was that some soldier his precious life must give.
For you to go to school my lad and worship God at will,
Someone had to pay the price so the Diggers paid the bill.
Your daddy died for us my son - for all things good and true.
I wonder if you understand the things I’ve said to you”.
The kid looked up at the Digger - just for a little while
And with a changed expression, said, with a lovely smile:
“I know my dad marched here today - this is ANZAC Day.
I know he did. I know he did, all the bloomin’ way”.
Sonnet for ANZAC Day
By: Alf Wood
Sound the Last Post again, lest we forget
the freedom that we cherish has been bought -
not found like mushrooms in the field; the debt
is ours to pay, mindful of those who fought
and fell - yet still they held the torch aloft!
May we remain as zealous to withstand
the traitors who would make our fibres soft,
as well as enemies beyond the land.
The trumpet has the power to move us still,
and though the debris of a flood of years
lies over hand and mind, an aching thrill
comes rising perilously close to tears.
Sound the Last Post to hold the memory bright,
then sound the Rouse and keep the torch alight.
Spirit of ANZAC (Poem courtesy of ozbird.com)
By: Mike Subritzky
They clad us in the colours of the forest,
and armed us with the weapons made for war.
Then taught to us the ancient trade of killing,
and lead us to the sound of battles roar.
So give us comfort as we lay down bleeding,
and pray upon our cold and stiffened dead.
But mark our place that we might be accounted,
this foreign soil becomes our graven bed.
Now children place upon this stone a garland,
and learn of us each Anzac Day at dawn.
We are New Zealand's dead from distant conflict,
our sacrifice remembered ever more.
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Comment by Peter Baskerville
AUSTRALIA’S ANZAC SONS
Tread softly now this hallowed ground
but wear the dust with pride,
for mingled with this ancient soil
our Aussie ash abides.
To sense the golden wattle sprig,
to see the red gums tall,
embodied in their crimson flow
our land and nature call.
Though beaten in a senseless raid
the world’s respect was won,
an enemy turned to friend indeed
our sons and theirs now one.
Eight thousand souls departed here
their flesh, a richer earth
that’s greened these hills for 90 years
their spirit, a nation’s birth.
A heritage won, a legacy given
that’s stood the test of time,
of mateship, grit and courage clear,
these bells forever chime.
Whilst larrikin and defiant they
the ultimate price have paid,
no greater honor now bestowed:
The ‘Anzac Spirit’ displayed.
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Great Work
Lest We Forget