Get Out of the Box

Get out of the box, … A Roman soldier from Ceaser’s Legion lay next to a French soldier from Napoleons’ Waterloo, who lay next to a German soldier of the 1st World War, embraced by a British soldier whose hand lay gently on the shoulder of a Russian soldier of the 2nd World War, the US Marine lay quietly beside with a book in his hand Titled the US Civil War North and South , an airman from New Zealand sat in his bi-plane, wing tipped to the Fokker, the Spitfire facing the de Havilland Gnome, sitting by the wheel a Polish airman, the Italian soldier crouched by the Scottish soldier holding his bagpipes, a 1st World War German soldier hands held a cross, lightly on the chest of the Jewish boy soldier from Britain, whose father lay in desert sands next to warriors of Great Arab Nations, the French Foreign Legionnaire hands by his side, the Egyptian soldier lay beside him holding a Turkish sword with a quiver of the Romans, Knights on the chessboard with the Knights armour resting in Mongolian tents where lay a soldier from Greece holding Plato’s writing , within the depths lay the Navy Captain of the Japanese Navy with the Russian seaman, beside the airman from Japan with the Australian soldier of the 2nd World War, like a folded rose petal over the Cossack from St Petersburg holding sheet music of Tea by Tchaikovsky (Chinese Dance) the pilgrim next to the Indian beside the Bombay Grenadier quietly by the Chiefs of the Pacific, the Spanish soldier with the Cuban revolutionary who lay beside the Portuguese, the fleets tall masted ships anchored below the waves of the sea, the jeeps quiet as red poppies grow, white crosses cross the land the Chinese Boxer Army, still , stone Chinese stone photograph stand quiet in line beneath the land the Wall has crossed, dusty layers trickle down the shoulders of the Korean soldier brushing the South African Boar War soldier peaceful beside the Zulu warrior who sat beside the pilgrim, holding out a book to the sleeping Palestine soldier sitting beside the soldier from Israel holding the helmet of red plume of the Roman soldier, whose hand stretched out to the gentle Gurkha , whose curved sword embraced the soldier of Iraq, who lay shoulder to shoulder to the soldier from Iran, whispering to the ghosts of Hiroshima looking East above the ground the silence of Chernobyl city, to bury the metal in great caves underground for thousands of years what soldier has a mind, who lay next to the soldier with sticks and stones of the 4th World War beside the airman of the 3rd World War, melted white crosses and red poppies grow, the Irish soldier with his fiddle lay still on the rock , beside the sailor and airman interlocked, all good men, all race colour and creed lay, still families bleed, soldiers lay still on a thin veil of transparency, Heads of Nations who can show a blind man colours, a deaf man hear when in a box.

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