Faded red bodice, years passed by
And now consigned to history.
Lady in red, long fronds rooted in the ground.
Kindness offered to British soldiers,
Long line yomping over the island
Armed with guns to kill the young Argentinians
Nothing left but blood, stained red
Draped over a headless woman’s body.
Would you want to wear the dress?
Oh! Feel it’s soft wool enclose my limbs.
Or would it’s living blood, dying blood,
Leave you as cold, as clammy as the grave!
©Carolina de la Cruz – The Vixen of Verse – 2015