My dearest Eleanor, my heart, my light,
I write to you by a flickering night.
The stars above are veiled in smoke,
And dreams of home are all I invoke.
France is cold, the earth unkind,
But in my soul, you're intertwined.
Your laughter echoes through the gloom,
A melody that defies the doom.
The mud is deep, the trenches raw,
Yet thoughts of you make me withdraw—
To fields of green, our garden's bloom,
The lilacs' scent in our sunlit room.
Do you still tend the roses we planted last spring?
Do their petals catch the morning's gleaming ring?
Oh, how I long to kneel beside,
To feel your hand, my cherished bride.
Each day, I wear your love as my shield,
A force the war can never yield.
When mortars rage, and fear runs high,
It's your soft smile that keeps me dry.
Tell little Thomas his father fights,
To guard the stars in his peaceful nights.
I carry his drawing tucked in my pack,
A beacon of hope when the world turns black.
I miss the sound of your voice at the dawn,
The warmth of your touch when the nights were long.
Here, I promise, no matter the fray,
Your love will guide me back one day.
If I should falter, if fate should part,
Know you'll forever live in my heart.
But I swear, my love, I'll cross this sea,
To hold you close, my Eleanor, my destiny.
The war may rage, but love endures,
A bond like ours is tried and sure.
Until we meet, keep faith in the sky,
For even in darkness, love cannot die.
Yours eternally,
Harold Fernsby
In the trenches, dreaming of home
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❝𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐨𝐞𝐦𝐬❞
PoetryIn this book, you will find gothic and chilling poems, letters and stories that will make the hair on your arms stand up with so much fascination and horror. Everything written in this book is my own. And it is my first book of poems and among other...
