The Fields Where the Dogs of War Once Played

I stood outside in a warm summer's wind
Gazing out into the night sky before me
Poppies reached for the heaven above
Scratching at the stars in the heavens

I gazed at these fields with a smile that wasn't bitter
But held memories of days long gone by
And you may think I'm crazy, gone mad, or simply sadistic
These memories were of war, battle, and blood

These memories of the dogs of war
They once sat upon my door, sleeping in sunlight
I opened that creaking door and knelt down to greet them
I rubbed the soft faces, pressed against mine, stroking velvet ears

And they leapt into the fields, fur golden with sun
And I laughed as they ran in their roundabout way
They leapt and they danced in the grass, never baring their teeth
Yes, these were the fields where my dogs of war used to play

They were good and obedient, gentle and kind
I spoke to them as they sat by my side on golden summer days
They were my companions in the grey winter months
Loyal and unwavering they stood beside me waiting for my word

You see, these fields were where the dogs of war once played
I raised them from puppies, whose paws were too big
To the powerful creatures that I remember here today
I wonder, do you remember as well? Those dogs so long ago

They ran through the snow, churning up mud and ice
Their long legs ate up the ground beneath them as they raced
Through mist they charged their paws drumming like gunfire
Their barks were the roar of cannons, their fangs flashed as sabers

Their eyes were flame, ember, and ice, their names were simple
Hatred, Fear, and Death, they warmed me in the nights
These dogs were mine, my beloved brothers and comrades
They brought me soft summer wind, my dear Hatred, Fear, and Death

We sat atop that green, grassy hill, feeling the soaring wind
We watched the sun turn clouds golden, the sky became crimson
The stars gleamed in the silken fabric of the moon lit night
I ran my fingers through their black and golden fur and we slept

"Silence!" you scream, holding your head in your hands
"Silence, how dare you speak so lightly of war!"
I smile, soft and gentle as my pen scrapes the paper
This poem without rhyme, meter, or rhythm has gone on too long

You look up at me angry tears in your eyes
Angered more by my smile, "Where are your loyal dogs now?"
You snarl, wanting to tear the blissful smile from my face
I answer, they have gone to lands far from here, to do my bidding

You choke on tears, you hate how I torture you so
"You lunatic, do you not see what your pets have done?"
I smile, they are my comrades, my dogs
You stare, mouth agape, "Who are you?"

I smile back, I am Human

These are the fields where the dogs of war once played

Author's Note

Another long poem! I have probably gone mad if I'm comparing war to dogs in a happy sunlit setting.... But that's how they narrator sees it, and maybe you don't feel the same way on something like this, but this is just how my mind works sometimes... And it really isn't supposed to have a real meter or anything its just here to tell a story. Any feedback/criticism is greatly appreciated!

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

It is sad we release young men of eighteen and teach them war before pleasure. I like the way you told the tales. Using the dogs to make your point in the story. I like the strong ending. Made the story complete. Thank you for the excellent story.
Coyote

[Austin H.]

Poppies seem to be a recurring theme in your writing. I'm guessing for the fact that they always pop up in old battlefields. The lack of meter prevented me from reading it with a rhythm, so if that's a concern for you then, there it is. I can tell that, even though the narrator is proud of his dogs, the overall view is skewed against war in general.