English poet and soldier Wilfred Edward Salter Owen was killed in action in the final week of World War I at the age of twenty-five on November 4, 1918. His parents received news of his death on November 11, now Armistice/Veterans Day. In honor of all service men and women before and since:


No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells;

Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,

The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;

And bugles calling for them from sad shires.

What candles may be held to speed them all?

Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes

Shall shine the holy glimmers of good-byes.

The pallor of girls’ brows shall be their pall;

Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,

And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.


Owen’s war poetry stands in sharp contrast to the patriotic work of earlier British war poets. Unknown in his lifetime, “his bleak realism, his energy and indignation, his compassion and his great technical skill” have enhanced his reputation since his death and he is now recognized as one of the greatest voices of World War I

2 Responses to “REMEMBRANCE DAY”
  1. Dan Beeaff says:

    Touching poem for remembering our fallen heroes.

    Sent from my iPad


    Liked by 1 person

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  • Copyright © 2011-16, Dianne Ebertt Beeaff. All Rights Reserved.
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