VILANELLE by ROLAND LEIGHTON
Violets from Plug Street Wood--- Sweet, I send you oversea. (It is strange they should be blue, Blue when his soaked blood was red; For they grew around his head. It is strange they should be blue.)
Violets from Plug Street Wood--- Think what they have meant to me! Life and Hope and Love and You. (And you did not see them grow Where his mangled body lay, Hiding horror from the day. Sweetest, it was better so.)
Violets from oversea, To your dear, far, forgetting land: These I send in memory, Knowing You will understand.
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|Author||Leighton, Roland (1895-1915)|
|First line||Violets from Plug Street Wood -|
|Digital repository||The First World War Poetry Digital Archive|