by Wilfred Owen
dreamed kind Jesus fouled the big-gun gears
and caused a permanent stoppage in all bolts,
and buckled with a smile Mausers and Colts,
and rusted every bayonet with His tears.
And there were no more bombs, of ours or theirs,
not even an old flint-lock, not even a pikel.
But God was vexed, and gave all power to Michael,
and when I woke he’d seen to our repairs.