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Memorial Day
The determined soldiers were extremely brave But now they lie in love in their grave. The injured fighters are in our memory Whilst they rest deep in a cemetery. The soldiers showed us good, Sadly we knew they had to shed blood.
THE POPPY
The genus Papava, in a field of swaying corn, Vivid against the ripened gold; Or scattered randomly, along the hedgerows, Petals at risk from the morning cold. Symbolic of the gallant fighting forces Alone, in the mud bogged trenches, These scarlet heads sway in...
As bullets blow poppies grow
What the poppies are for. As bullets blow poppies grow, Disturbed ground lies row on row. In No Man’s land the poppies burn, Machines will fire and the ground will churn. Kneel down get on your knees, Don’t worry about the mud and flees. Pray for those who fought in...
Men at war
Stomp-stomp! Stomp-stomp! The moonlit sky filled with smoke, Where bullet after bullet made men scream. The heart of evil coldness from clouds above, Circled the men at war. The blood pounded on the ground like an angry dog, As skeletons rattled all rotten. Corpse...
Centenary Poem
I wear this poppy on my chest To remember those who lay to rest Coloured red like the blood; tragically spilled Of thousands of men; mercilessly killed But for their country was how they died And today I wear this flower with pride The leaf angled to the eleventh hour...
NEVER FORGET…
The meandering Thames flows through the cities midst, Lapping gently against the shore. Beside Tower Bridge, in the castle’s moat, A commemoration to lives, lost in the harshest of wars. It is one hundred years since the start of the conflict, And the four year long...