It was fun
It was great fun,
to be with parra bats
in a camp.
Those men
know no fear
(and any reason)
and every one
wanted to take a beret,
to claim fourteen days furlough.
Still cooking water runs
and glowing irons hit
the attacking parras back,
and chains fly
twisting through the air.
poem by Gert Strydom

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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