IT MIGHT BE VERSE.
STAR-CROSS’D LOVER, i We were young, we were gay, we were lovers And the world was a garden of flowers; Now the blossoms are faded and fallen, And a winter unending is ours. We are parted parted for ever, Condemned without hope of reprieve; For my love has a pip on her shoulder And I but a stripe on my sleeve! f. . . We have met since it happened, but somehow, Proud Lance-Bombardier though I am, I just can’t make love at attention, While addressing the loved one as “ Ma’am.” Oh, Spirit of Anzac, assist me 1 A soldier has no right to grieve, But my love has a pip on her shoulder, And I but a stripe on my sleeve. So play me “ The Flowers of the Forest,” Let me drain sorrow’s cup to the dregs, I have loved, as a carefree civilian, I have lost, as laid down in King’s Regs. Let me burnish the breech of my Bofors, And forget about seven days’ leave, For my love has a pip on her shoulder And I but a stripe on my sleeve! —E.O.E.
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Bibliographic details
Arawa Guerilla, Issue 19, 1 October 1943, Page 8
Word Count
188IT MIGHT BE VERSE. Arawa Guerilla, Issue 19, 1 October 1943, Page 8
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