A/N: Inspired by E.R.H's wartime stories I tried to write a poem. It became a bit novemberish, but I hope you like it anyway.
Wartime thoughts
Mud on his boots
November rain drenched the trenches' grounds
His thoughts travel far away, home, to her
Whatever she may do now
The cold wind makes him shiver
Like the words never spoken
He was supposed to say them
But he didn't
It seems to be so long ago
But it were only three months
When they met for the last time
The world changed so quickly
But one thing was still the same
He adores her – so much
He knows it now for sure
Nobody else than her
Because of this he cares
He cares so deeply
Be well, my dear Edith, please be well
Mud on her shoes
November rain drenched the streets
Her thoughts travel far away, far from home, to him
Wherever he may be now
The cold wind makes her shiver
Like the words never heard
He was supposed to say them
But he didn't
It seems to be so long
But it were only three months
When he went away without any further word
The world changed so quickly
But one thing was still the same
No one cared for her – no one
She knows it now for sure
Not her family, not him
Despite of this she cares
She cares so deeply
Be safe, Sir Anthony, please be safe