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 battle began;
When young men stood, face to face with their foe,
And their blood, through the trenches, ran.

So now, we remember those souls that were lost;
Their fights were never in vain;
Though triumphant, many were sacrificed
Giving us freedom…our Nation’s gain.

A window, high in the castle’s wall,
Today billows a ribbon of red;
Made entirely from hand-made poppies,
It symbolises the blood of the dead.

Cascading into the castle’s moat,
Each poppy represents one life lost.
The enormity of this crimson expanse,
Tells the sheer hell, and it’s human cost.

More than Eight Hundred and Eighty Eight Thousand,
Went to war, but never returned.
We owe them, for all we have today ,
For our gratitude, was never more earned.

So, to coin a phrase, symbolic with this time of year,
As we stand in awe, while the Winter’s sun sets,
We thank you men; every last one,
For you, our Nation will never forget.
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