Where the Poppy Grows.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: War and Military  |  House: Booksie Classic
A poem that I wrote on the eleventh of November in 2016, to remember those who died in combat during world war I.

Submitted: June 24, 2017

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Submitted: June 24, 2017

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Where the Poppy Grows.

 

 Poppies grow from a field of war,

Of bloodshed, pain, loss and gore,

 Those soldiers fought for country fare,

Fought for our freedom amidst a  tide of  despair.

 

Such a  tragic loss of life,

Pain and suffering, brutality and strife,

But through this hardship, nature still shows,

In the fields of war where the poppy grows.

 

As the bell tolls eleven, the world must fall silent,

 In  quiet respect for those who died on the Salient,

Never  shall we forget their sacrifice,

And the war that was fought at  a deadly  price.

 

As the sun rises, a ball of flame,

It’s light strikes the crosses and stones that remain,,

From conflict long past, marked by  memorial stones,

That stand alone in thebattlefield where thepoppy grows.


© Copyright 2017 Murron Dickinson. All rights reserved.

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