stdClass Object
(
    [ID] => 18400
    [post_author] => 23
    [post_date] => 2017-10-10 14:29:42
    [post_date_gmt] => 2017-10-10 14:29:42
    [post_content] =>                               to have and to hold from this day forward
dawn breaks and somewhere a radio goes static
                 as wedding bells ring. the white noise of our cathedral
                              for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer
occupies us like a dreamsong while the rest of country listens
                 for the shock waves of a land mine.

                              in sickness and in health
we kiss and somewhere a bridge surrenders to a river at the touch
                 of a bomb. we dance and someone’s husband falls
                              to love and to cherish, till death us do part
from the sky. somewhere the air is a field on fire
                 and its land below is a burial ground
                              according to God's holy law,
waiting for lilies. one day,
                 I will evacuate the desert and return
                              and this is my solemn vow
to everyone with flowers.
                 somewhere a radio goes static.
    [post_title] => may 10, 1940
    [post_excerpt] => 
    [post_status] => publish
    [comment_status] => closed
    [ping_status] => closed
    [post_password] => 
    [post_name] => may-10-1940
    [to_ping] => 
    [pinged] => 
    [post_modified] => 2017-10-10 14:29:42
    [post_modified_gmt] => 2017-10-10 14:29:42
    [post_content_filtered] => 
    [post_parent] => 0
    [guid] => http://poems.poetrysociety.org.uk/?post_type=poems&p=18400
    [menu_order] => 0
    [post_type] => poems
    [post_mime_type] => 
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    [filter] => raw
    [meta_data] => stdClass Object
        (
            [wpcf-published-in] => 
            [wpcf-date-published] => 2017
            [wpcf-summary-description] => This poem is highly commended in the Timothy Corsellis Prize 2017 on Young Poets Network (YPN), judged by Wendy Cope, Fran Brearton, Llewela Selfridge, and Judith Palmer.

Judge Fran Brearton said of this poem:
"'may 10, 1940' makes ironic contrast between ceremony and ritual in one context, and carnage in another. It is more arresting in its command of language (‘a bridge surrenders to a river…’) and with an assured, striking ending."

Erin reflects on her poem:
"When I was reading about John Jarmain’s life, the occurrence of his marriage to Beryl Butler on the same day as Hitler’s invasion of France and Belgium struck me as an impeccable coincidence. It also stuck out to me that majority of his best poems were written in the desert and airmailed back to his wife. Through my poem, “may 10, 1940,” I try to simultaneously depict the domestic and horrific aspects of living during World War II and examine what this means in the context of marriage."
            [wpcf-rights-information] => 
            [wpcf-poem-award] => Highly commended, Timothy Corsellis Prize 2017
            [wpcf_pr_belongs] => 
        )

    [poet_data] => stdClass Object
        (
            [ID] => 18401
            [forename] => 
            [surname] => 
            [title] => Erin O’Malley
            [slug] => erin-omalley
            [content] => Erin is a highly commended poet in the Timothy Corsellis Prize 2017 on Young Poets Network.
        )

)
stdClass Object
(
    [ID] => 18401
    [forename] => 
    [surname] => 
    [title] => Erin O’Malley
    [slug] => erin-omalley
    [content] => Erin is a highly commended poet in the Timothy Corsellis Prize 2017 on Young Poets Network.
)

may 10, 1940

Erin O’Malley

                              to have and to hold from this day forward
dawn breaks and somewhere a radio goes static
                 as wedding bells ring. the white noise of our cathedral
                              for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer
occupies us like a dreamsong while the rest of country listens
                 for the shock waves of a land mine.

                              in sickness and in health
we kiss and somewhere a bridge surrenders to a river at the touch
                 of a bomb. we dance and someone’s husband falls
                              to love and to cherish, till death us do part
from the sky. somewhere the air is a field on fire
                 and its land below is a burial ground
                              according to God’s holy law,
waiting for lilies. one day,
                 I will evacuate the desert and return
                              and this is my solemn vow
to everyone with flowers.
                 somewhere a radio goes static.