The Poppy Fields

by | Oct 18, 2009 | Poetry | 0 comments

We know not what is in the wind
Cast by Mother Natures hand
Or borne by the birds as they soar thro the sky
Never selective of where the seeds land
An onward progression that never stops
Germinating from seeds however sown
Ensuring that yearly the fields hold crops
To be harvested when full grown
Whether it be wheat or barley or oats
Which variety it’s shade of gold denotes
But other crops their colours vary
Some variegated at the head
Except for acres and acres across the horizon
Creating a beautiful carpet of red
Gently they wave their heads in the breeze
As the Autumnal Season appears
‘tis the Poppy with its silken leaves so gentle
Adopted from the Flanders fields for Oh! so many years
In Memory of all the Soldiers that fell there and died
Each year millions of Poppies will show
To make sure that the Sacrifice that they made
Ever present today as it was long ago
Tho’ gone from this life they are ne’er far away
Remembered in Reverence with all heads bowed
They gave their tomorrow for our today
So that with Peace in our lives we are endowed


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