As promised in my first post about my grandfather, here is another one of the beautiful poems he sent home to my grandmother:
(click the image for a large view)
By Ian Munro Stevenson, WWII
To Florence:
My Darling when this war is won.
How good I'll be to you,
My sweetheart when this job is done,
For you the things I'll do.
This War has made me realize,
How much I need you dear,
At each reveille I arise,
To start the day in tears.
For I can think of nought but you,
Yes even in my sleep -
E'en in my dreams I lay and brood,
I dream of you and weep.
Oh let them play their blasted bands,
And let their flags unfurl,
I long for the touch of your loving hands,
and your smile, with teeth like pearls.
I'm tired of the marching feet and the rain,
the slashes like hundreds of whips
I long to be at your side again,
And feel the thrill of your lips.
No more do I look forward to
My leaves, I once was glad,
To get to spend with just us two,
But now I'm much too sad.
You ask me has my love gone cold,
Since I've come over here,
My sweet it has increased ten fold,
And you've no need to fear.
My sweetheart please don't doubt my love,
I'll never love but you,
I swear by all that's good above,
that I will always be true.
I know my love how hard it is,
For you at home alone,
I know how much you miss my kiss,
So much I miss your own.
I know my sweet in every way,
your love for me is true,
But don't forget that every day,
I love and miss you too.
I know he was my grandfather, but this poetry from the second world war by a soldier to his wife really moves me. I'm floored by how good it is, and would love to hear it put to music, and played for the world to hear (with some minor editing), it should at the very least be published in a World War II book, or a collection of poems on war.
My heart goes out to all the soldiers and their wives or girlfriends, present and past. This must be so painful and terrifying.
For more poetry from this devoted soldier, click here










