Sheep now graze where the Newfoundlanders' fell
    Crossing the great divide, cut down
    Trapped, by wire in the land of no-man,
    It has gone now-rusted away, our boys released at last
    We see the Danger Tree still stands
    Pointing to one place of many
    Where mens blood ran in wretched disbelief
    Gone now their chances "To kill the stinking bastards that killed our
    mates"
    But we who are here cannot feel the rage of battle
    We may walk, imagine think, see and smell
    See the white headstones turn yellow with age
    And wonder what it was like to be
    In such a desperate place - Somme, 80 years ago today
    Grass has grown over fields, wounds covered now
    Shut in like a skin, the scars though can still be seen
    Trenches, shell holes and spirits of men long gone
    Ensure you - the visitor
    Will stay within your domain, and do not cross the great divide
    Where dead rest within their nameless graves.
         

Mark's other works