FIREWORK DISPLAY

I watched the great explosions in Baghdad

Where bombs descended beautifully,  and did

Exactly what their makers intended

They should do effectively,  lighting red

And yellow fountains in Mid-Eastern skies. . .

   An evening entertainment drawing sighs

   Of satisfaction under Western skies,

   A blissful scene to politicians' eyes,

   A bright display before they go to bed:

   Thunderflashes,  roman candles,  a thud

   Of gleaming missile-archery all dead

   On target---such skilfull shooting.  Too bad

   It is so late;  ''Oh darling,  I think we should

   Turn the TV off now. . .''  they'll soon be sound

   Asleep and dreaming sweet. . .

But in Baghdad

The fireworks carried on and shook the ground

While keeping all awake to wait in dread,

Till daylight brought a lull;  to find disclosed

The butchered men and boys,  young mothers dead,

Raw- ruptured guts,  blast-torn limbs, 
childrens' blood. . .