poem by George Ross Glen from Blantyre

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Angel Road

In the blue still
Of midnight
Curtains are drawn
In Angel Road,
Snow falls gently
On the footprints of people
Long since abode.

No one sees the scruffy man
As he walks slowly
Along the snow covered ground,
He mumbles out aloud
No ears are there
To hear the sound

Forgotten among the forgotten
He paid the price for war,
Our bellies and our lives full
And yet we ask for more.

So lie warm in your bed
As the snow leaves
Not a trace,
Remember those
Who fought for us,
The ones who kept
Us safe.

 George Ross Glen

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