AT AFTERNOON TEA
(Triolet)
We have taken a trench
Near Combles, I see,
Along with the French.
We have taken a trench.
(Oh, the bodies, the stench!)
Won’t you have some more tea?
We have taken a trench
Near Combles, I see.
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A collection of short poems written by a soldier in captivity reflecting on home, memory, and the experience of imprisonment. The verse moves between intimate domestic images—mother, English gardens, county landscapes—and the hardships of internment, loneliness, and comradeship, often blending pastoral detail with wartime grief and wry humor. Forms vary from ballades and sonnets to rondel and villanelle, and recurring motifs include nature, loss, longing, and reflections on duty and sacrifice. Many pieces juxtapose the small joys of remembered rural life with the starkness of prison, producing restrained lyricism that balances tenderness, anger, and quiet faith.