Now peaceful, now quiet, now still,

A house close to the battlefields thrill,

The place where Rider Haggard used to stay,

Can still remind us of another day.

There’s some things left of times gone by,

When men fought hard, to live and die,

And fear in every breast did breathe,

The lifeblood of a nation’s heave.

Trinkets, copper, paintings, stone,

All the things, if left alone

Would wither, break and lose their charm,

Sit quietly away from harm.

And in the memories of men,

With written word and ink and pen,

The papers live and such tales tell,

Until agreement ends the living hell.

Now life continues, still and quiet,

And here we rest where life was riot,

A testament to lives well spent,

A reminder how life can be rent.

©  July 2009