Who is Frank James Prewett
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Frank James Prewett Poems
- Burial Stones
The blue sky arches wide
From hill to hill;
The little grasses stand
Upright and still. ... - The Somme Valley, June, 1917
Comrade, why do you weep?
Is it sorrow for a friend
Who fell, rifle in hand,
His last stand at an end? ... - Voices Of Women
Met ye my love?
Ye might in France have met him;
He has a wooing smile,
Who sees cannot forget him! ... - Snow-buntings
They come fluttering helpless to the ground
Like wreaths of wind-caught snow,
Uttering a plaintive, chirping sound,
And rise and fall, and know not where they go. ... - To My Mother In Canada, From Sick-bed In Italy
Dear mother, from the sure sun and warm seas
Of Italy, I, sick, remember now
What sometimes is forgot in times of ease,
Our love, the always felt but unspoken vow. ...
