Remembrance Day deserves something special. I wrote the poem below while visiting the war graves, and subsequently set it to music. The works in italics, at the top and bottom of the poem were words that were written on two young soldiers' graves.

I looked at our – no, your - Newtonians this morning, and I thought about how parents of Summerfieldians whose sons lost their lives must have felt: it made me realise, not for the first time, just how privileged Diana and I are.


It is but one more day
Until tomorrow’s dawn;
When earthly days are done
And travelling days are past.
A mother’s love,
Which only she can know,
Has nothing more
In this brief life to show.


In days when victory seems lost
For those who count their fellows
On the field;
They look towards
The pastel-shaded sky
And weep
With tears
That gently fall to ground
Like silver scimitars
Of human sacrifice.


And when the final trumpet-call
Invites the fallen
to their place
of tranquil rest;
Those who have given freely
In the name of Love:
Behold, we count them happy
Which endure.