I recently published three poems by Helen M Nightingale a nurse in World War 1 who inspite of research I have been unable to find no information on her apart from the fact that she may have been Australian.
It is such a shame that a writer of her quality especially during what was a tragic time for many should appear to have been forgotten.
I’m looking for more examples of her work and will publish them in due course.
In the meantime transport yourself back to WW1 and enjoy the poem Day Dreams.
Because, if I sit down and think
My mind makes pictures of distress
So that from night and sleep I shrink
Although half dead of weariness;
Because, I know that any day
He, too, may lie with shattered limb
I serve – as he does- in my way
Or dream I minister to him