unnamed poem

This is very early days of writing poetry for me, so any help, criticisms and comments will be very much appreciated.

South of the village La Boisselle in the Somme departmént
He marched. The lingering odour of bloody carcus
In shallow graves he could not bare. No he could not.
It is where he lost his arm, you know. Bang bang aucun bras.
That was what they called him. That’s how he came

Home to me. I hold him close at night so he will not go again.
I told him I will always wait, but he is silent.
Mother thinks it awful, such a man for her little girl.
And brother shouts and pants at the thought of
His best friend from his youngest years
In my arms.

What do they know. They do not have the ears to
Hear him. Only He listens to me sweetly, attentively.
I sit bare. Unclothed. Peaceful. Beautiful.
We are stuck together. I will never leave his side.
Them tempting Sugar-coated Apples tantalise us.

Nancy had him in her arms, hugged close to her breast
As she played a likely game of dress up.
Disgusted betrayal run through my lips as I cried
And quivered at such thoughts. He told her he was
A farmer called Sam. Lost his arm by a dogs bite.

thank you so very much
Kate x

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