The silver birches light with sun’s soft beams

How my heart sings

Poetry and lovely images

Through the barbed wire fence, I saw a stream
Water washing down to  river wide
A field of daisies and wild grasses green

Inside my pulsing heart,  the blood did plead
That history and myth could take a ride
Through the barbed wire fence, I saw a stream

Lack of hope conspires to kill our dreams
And memories that lie can be no guide
To fields of daisies and wild grasses green

The silver birches light with sun’s soft beams
In their way, they are discreet disguise.
Through the barbed wire fence, I saw a stream

About the cruelty  of human deeds
The  library made is shattered and demeaned
Still fields of daisies hold wild grasses green

Few can bear to enter and to read
What the minds of sufferers could mean
Through the barbed wire fence, they saw a stream

While Icarus descended, unperceived
Farmers tilled their meadows, blithe, deceived
Through the barbed wire fence, we saw a stream
The field of daisies and wild grasses screamed

Silver birches grew  near Auschwitz at least in a film I saw

I welcome comments and criticism

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