"The light of day is cold and grey and there is no more peace By the high white moon-washed walls, where we laughed and where we sung; And I can’t go back to those days of short unthinking ease, When I was very foolish and you were very young. For you the laurel and the rose will bloom, and you will see The dawn’s delight, firelight on rafters, wind, seas, and thunder, Children asleep and dreams and hearts at ease, when life will be, Even at its close, a quiet and an ageless wonder. For me the poppies soon will dance and sway in Haute Avesnes: The sunrise of my love slides into dusk, its day untasted: Yet as I lie, turf-clad, and freed of passion, and of pain, I find my sacrifice of golden things not wasted; Your peace is bought with mine, and I am paid in full, and well, If but the echo of your laughter reaches me in hell." David Rhys Geraint Jones St Manvieu War Cemetery, Normandy: Inscription: "YOUR PEACE IS BOUGHT WITH MINE" Casualty
