![]() The BunkerA Poem by David Lewis Paget
They
hid in a concrete bunker there
While
the bombs flew overhead, Each
bomb had seemed to be closer, and At
times, they thought they were dead, But
Karl had held his Griselda close As
she gazed into his eyes, With
a love she wouldn’t surrender Though
the Devil controlled the skies. ‘What
do they want to kill us for, They’ve
had their pound of flesh?’ ‘We’re
merely reaping the whirlwind For
disturbing Gilgamesh!’ He
kissed her eyes and her golden hair As
the tears streaked down her face, ‘I
know I’ll love you forever, though The
heavens destroy our race.’ They’d
always meant to be married, but That
had been years before, For
then the Wehrmacht called on Karl And
hurried him off to war, He
hadn’t wanted to go away But
he knew he daren’t say no, There
were tears from his Griselda when She
badgered him not to go. He
managed to get away on leave When
they came back home from France, They
lay for days in the poppy fields To
renew their brief romance, ‘This
war won’t last forever,’ he said To
relieve her morbid fears, But
then they had turned on Russia, and The
end would be not for years. She
wrote him faithfully every week And
he read her, in his tank, She
poured her perfume onto the leaves So
the breast of his greatcoat stank, But
the worm had turned on the Russian steppes When
the guns and the half tracks froze, And
the mighty army had turned on back With
the order, ‘follow your nose!’ He’d
fled back through the Sudetenland In
a battered Tiger Tank, He
knew that the war was over, with The
Generals to thank, The
tank had stalled, run out of fuel Just
outside East Berlin, He
walked in over the rubble there And
looked for his love again. He
thought that his heart would burst when he Discovered
her still alive, ‘We’ll
have to hide in the bunker if We’re
going to both survive.’ They
hadn’t eaten for seven days And
Griselda looked so thin, ‘I’ll
venture out and I’ll find some food, And
then I’ll be back again.’ Griselda
clung, and she said, ‘Don’t go! You
will only come to harm, I’d
rather starve in the bunker here And
die in my lover’s arms.’ But
Karl said, ‘Ack! I will venture back If
it takes both tooth and claw, I
need to feed mein liebchen up So
we’ll both survive the war.’ The
streets were almost impassable, Incendiaries
had been dropped, And
flames were busy engulfing rows Of
houses, Inns and shops, He
raided stores still racked in flames Found
pumpernickel bread, And
a pound or so of cheese, and Schnapps, Before
he had turned and fled. He
watched as the Russian tanks went by And
the men with their evil eyes, Their
crazed Mongolian faces made him Stop,
dig in and hide, But
when he had made his way back to The
bunker, forced the door, He
saw the blood where Griselda lay Quite
naked, down on the floor. They’d
all had their evil way with her While
his love lay still, and stared, They’d
finished her with a bayonet While
he had foraged for bread. He cried, and he lay beside her then, 'I
shouldn’t have gone,’ he said, 'I'll never be late, my bride, again,’ Then
he put a gun to his head. David
Lewis Paget © 2013 David Lewis PagetFeatured Review
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Added on June 22, 2013Last Updated on June 22, 2013 Tags: bombs, wermacht, Russia, Mongolians Author
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