Prayer to St. Peter
Let them in, Peter, for they are very tired
Give them couches where the angels sleep
And light those fires
Let them wake whole again, to brand new dawns
Fired by the sun not wartime's bloody guns
May their peace be deep, remember where the broken bodies lie
God knows how young they were to have to die
Give them things they like
Let them make some noise
Give dance hall bands, not golden harps
To these, our boys
Let them love, Peter - for they've had no time
They should have bird songs and trees, and hills to climb
The taste of summer and a ripened pear
And girls sweet as meadow wind, and flowing hair
And tell them how they are missed
But say not to fear
It's gonna be all right
With us down here...
- Anon
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