The spring sunshine means walks in meadows of green,
Families hand in hand, meandering peacefully by the stream.
Watching children play joyously on tyre swings,
They know nothing of the horror the past brings.
Hide and seek, den creation, and uphill race,
The warmth on my skin as the sun shows his face.
Picnics on the blanket, running on the heath,
We give no thought to what lies beneath.
These fields of green, the babbling brook,
The tranquillity of a favourite book.
Do the forgotten, buried far below
Envy us the peace this idyll bestows?