#English #Sonnets #poetry
The March sun shines on a cold winter's day.
Green shoots randomly appear in the ground.
The birds sing as the pink washed dawn holds sway,
Over life and death, the funeral mound.
The barrows, where our ancestors are laid.
Only skeletal bones remain to sing
Their songs of wisdom whispers that don't fade.
Warning bells against war and pain still ring.
Modern ears ignore past lessons not learned,
Our warrior DNA still fights on.
To our various gods we are yet turned.
Still praying for a new world, a new dawn.
We should learn the ancestors way to peace.
Live where love for each other will not cease!
©🦊VixenOfVerse, 2025
VIXEN of VERSE 
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