Wednesday, November 19, 2008


I dreamed of endless rows
Of thousands of soldiers
They all threw down their guns
The battlefield was plowed
To endless perfect rows
Of sunflowers facing the sun
Yes they all turned to face the sun

You may turn
Your tanks to tractors
You may plow
The battlefields in a row
But you've got to plant
Your seeds with love
If you want
A good thing to grow

But the great war machine
It churned up disgust
And blocked the sun
With smoky skies
And when the dust settled
The ink on the treaties dried
The fruits were small in size
A good yield was not realized

Then the soldiers came
From either side
And stood where their
Friends had died
Veterans shared a tear
With former foes
And where the tears fell
Rows of sunflowers grow
And they stand in perfect rows

© 1997 Stefan des Lauriers

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