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Lorena's Last Lace

written by: hedgehog


Lorena sat content on her doorstep
Happy and free as she looked all about
Friends passed her by on their way to the market
She knew them all in this small town of Ripont
The clatter of cart wheels, the squeal of the pigs
The hustle and bustle, the smell of the town
Peace and prosperity, safe all around

She's passing her hour's making lace for the market
As songs of her youth came gently to mind
Tunes that she learned in her long ago schooldays
The bright morning sun warming all in the town

Coming from afar in the calm peaceful sky
For hours and hours artilleries scream
Lorena cut down by shell-shot and shrapnel
White lace turned blood red there on the ground
No one survived in the small town of Ripont
Acrid smoke drifting over those blown apart
As shells still came screaming from out of the sky



Most of the houses in Ripont were in ruins. The town is uninhabited. Only the dead are left. But the enemy keeps on bombarding—apparently to pass the time. This happened during the First World War and many villages of France were treated in this way.



I'm a retired Civil Servant, I worked for the Ministry of Defence retiring at the age of fifty. I am now seventy years of age and was encouraged by my good friend Annie Mulholland in February 2016 to write short stories and poetry as she thought I was well capable of writing both. I started writing in earnest in June of 2016. I have joined a writing group "Tenovus write with us".

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