If I should die, don’t think of me at all
Unless,world-weary,you prefer like me
To waste your life against life’s ocean-wall
And spend your freedom crying to be free.
Think then, this May, how building whitethroats call
In England’s woods, and how from every tree
Blanched blossom dangles, and young girls are all
In love, and green corn slants above the sea
I never asked for life, nor thanked who gave
Me unconsulted to the angry years
In sacrifice. My soul, not framed a slave,
Climbed to the clouds and with those other brave
Welcomed the bullets that belied our fears,
The last long dive to death, and this, our grave.
Pilot, P/O. George Eades, 431 Squadron, Wellington X HE503 SE-S. Crashed, with the loss of all the crew 26/27th March 1943. Submitted to Aircrew Remembered by his relatives, in July 2012. Note: This poem, along with many others, was published in 1942 in a book titled ‘Thy Muse Hath Wings’.
His relatives have now lovingly reprinted this wonderful collection, and have made it available from Amazon.
They request their permission be sought before reproducing any of George Eades’ poems on our site. Please contact us via our Help button and we will forward your request.
At the going down of the sun, and in the morning we will remember
them. - Laurence
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• Last Modified: 26 May 2014, 08:05 •