Ivor Gurney

"Ivor gurney"
We'll meet somewhere, maybe it'll be on the Malvern hills,

With full of view of Dymock, which shaded by the clouds

Like a dunnock in the hedge, hides its brown in green frills

The village, of Robert, Edward, and Wilfred, their words

Will greet sometime, the visitors hunting down the Great War

In among the pack, there will be one to point out Lascelles

and John are missing, bleating out the omission, by the hour

By reverse telescope, not on the walk, they'll have Ivor Gurney

Playing with nature and music, a session of the last journey

we make, as our minds and bodies wander into the sunset

orchestrated by assonance, for Thomas who died at Arras