Barley and rye sway in the breeze no more
A poppy stands tall – alone –a monument in this field of misery.
Where a soldier fell in the Great War
Scarlet petals now bask in the golden rays of sun,
Soaking up the glory of the summer’s day;
No more fighting where the soldiers lay.
Clouds gather and darkness reigns
Soft tears of the gods fall gently on the land
Renewing life, creating new birth:
Seeds sprout on the dawn of a new peace.

The fields are silent now and all have gone home,
Except for those who lie beneath the scarlet petals:
Whatever their names – whichever side they belong to-
They will never go home though never will be forgotten.
For they are a symbol of new life – of new hope – a scarlet poppy:
A reminder of that terrible war

Slowly the seeds come back and the seasons pass
Barley and rye sway in the breeze once more
Yet through it all a monument still stands tall –
A row of scarlet poppies
A testament to those awful years
Let’s remember them all as we watch the poppies sway
In the warm summers breeze – a scarlet symbol of new hope