A Truce at Christmas

My final poem of the year looks back to when war broke out. Those lines in Steven Moffat's brilliant Doctor who episode still haunt me: "for one day, one Christmas, a very long time ago, everyone just put down their weapons, and started to sing. Everybody just stopped. Everyone was just kind.". 

Astute readers may spot a well know carol was the basis for the rhyming form.

A Truce at Christmas

No rest in trenches, army men
These days make us dismay
There is no end, no saviour
The fighting night and day
To save us all from German power
Where shells fall down astray
All fighting now to destroy, now to destroy!
All fighting now to destroy!

In Flanders field, in wartime hell
A war time truce was born
Amidst the endless danger
Upon this blessed morn
A chance for men to bury
A brief pause now to mourn
Across trenches, a cheerful ahoy, a cheerful ahoy!
Across trenches, a cheerful ahoy!

Then with a ringing of church bell
Men singing Silent Night
And listening to their Saviour
A coming of the light
To sing with joy an ancient hymn
And break war till the night
O, tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy!
O, tidings of comfort and joy!