Saturday, April 20, 2013


Armistice Day on eleventh of November
Was often bleak and mournful Pre empting winter
The skies of French Flanders remembered and crying
Watered those bloody fields where flowers were lacking
Came spring when the poppies in fallow ground abound
Sad thoughts were put aside. Emerging from the ground
Were crops generating labour income and food
Enough to meet the needs of farmers and their brood

But poppies “Down Under” at Anzac services
Tell our generation that war and its vices
Has laid a heavy toll on those once Dominions
The men who left brightly to help other nations
If indeed they returned were by then the wiser
They ignored the glory some of them were bitter
The poppy that they wore was not their reminder
It spoke for those fallen in the fields of Flanders

On April twenty fifth at church or cenotaph
Poppies are tied in wreaths a floral epitaph
For those who went away and remained in the land
Where they fell far from home so that others could stand

Wild poppies never sown you wilt to resurrect
In the following year plentiful and erect
You waver in the wind you bow and rise again
In homage to soldiers who didn’t die in vain

Thérèse Miller- Beudaert

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