Monday, 9 November 2015


He found her in the sodden paddock, crying
her face and arms covered in mud.
He moved towards her, slowly,
taking her in his arms, ever so gently.
No words needed, none would be heard..
they'd been here before.
Slowly, they made their way back
to the old barn, filled with hay.
She wouldn't go to the house, not today.
As he helped her to sit, she pulled away.
He stepped back, watching from the shadows
his heart aching.
He wondered how long this would be
it mattered not, he would wait.
He owed her his life, she waited for him.
It'd been so long ago, in the fields of France.
He'd lain, covered in mud
near the village of Pozieres
all hope fading, till he felt her soft hand
wiping his brow and a cool, wet cloth touching his lips.
She'd almost stumbled over him
while searching for food in her father's field.
His next memory was of resting in a barn
half covered in old blankets and hay.
She nursed him back to health
over three long months
then helped him to get back to his unit. 

He returned, years after, to see the girl who saved him
she, no longer a girl, he, no longer a boy
but united forever.
They settled into farm life, far away
but the fields of France never left them.
He'd wait, she'd return, till the next time.

(c) Crissouli Nov 9, 2015


  1. Beautiful words Chris ... I agree a story that needed to be written.

    1. Thank you, Bev... I'm glad it touched you...

  2. Thank you, Helen...glad you dropped by.

  3. Very heartfelt picture you've painted. Well done xo

  4. Thank you, Rob...I wanted to show that not only men were affected by war..


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