(1942) John Pudney
O war is whispering in the barley,
And green ears sweeten in the sun.
O with charlock and red poppy
Weed-proud summer is begun.
Summer too innocent in beauty
Strips the eye which wakes ashamed:
Drenching daylight with high lark-song
Where the very sky is aimed.
In a chastity of air, war ventures,
Where the rose forms innocently whole.
In the ardent pallor of the barley,
War sighs, fumbling for the soul.
