SOUND SCENTS

Warfare, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory -
Odours, like sweet corpses, sicken
Hearts, which good sense could not quicken.

Iraqi lives, when freedom's dead,
Are oft heaped on the conqu'rors head;
And so their thoughts, when Blair is gone,
Hate itself shall smoulder on.

                    (Apologies to Percy Bysshe Shelley)

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Williamb   wrote on Sunday 19th of May 2013 at 01:49:33 AMThis is one of the best here.