(a writing prompt from Write on Edge)
The bells of St Brigit’s are calling tonight
Recalling a trio of baptisms made
One not long past springtime three boys all in white
Soon muddied and grinning they grew and they played
In green hills and wildwoods, valley and stream
Three bold brave adventurers seeking their fame
Then home for their supper, a snug bed and dream
And each new day shines brightly, life is a game
The bells recall years far too fast as they pass
And three called away, told to fight the good fight
Foreign fields, noble causes, and dreams drowned in gas
The boys of St Brigit’s are falling tonight
