Wear proud your poppy

Stand firm in the trenches of Flanders fields.
Ready the mortar and let it rain upon the enemy.
Send them our grenades and show them our might.
Shut out the cold and think of home.
Trudge on through the sucking, hungry mud.
No matter the risk as long as we win, trench fever is not so terrible a thing.
All that noise is common place... It's the quiet that seems strange.
Ready the rifles at the break of dawn, bayonets glinting in the sun.
It's time to rise to no mans land.
Onward men to our victory.
The ground is scarred and pitted but still we go on, the bullets race past, many hit targets.
Men fall but not in vein, they take enemies with them.
They have had their victory and made their country proud.
And still on they fight to defend us all.
They stood so proud, they stood so tall.
The thunder of the guns, the blasting of the bombs, the smoke obscures the way ahead, still they strive on despite the dread.
Untill the haunting silence grips all.
All clears, no smoke, no bullets fire.
And breifly do the opposing sides cease their war so that the brave lost men can be buried safe.
At last they can rest in the embrace of peace.
In spirit they are home once more.
Their sacrifices remembered forever more.
So wear proud your poppy of scarlet red, just like the spilt blood our hero's shed...
Upon the fields of Flanders.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

For remembrance. I hope I did well.

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Another poppy grows from the hard dry ground
As another soldier falls
His name will live forever more
On the War memorial walls

The petals still gently blow in Flanders fields
Dancing in the winter sun
As a solder falls in Helmand province
He wont be the only one

Just once a year we wear our poppies proud
Standing silent in our towns
We cant hear the rifle shot in Afghanistan
That’s just brought another soldier down

As another poppy seed is planted
Another baby boy is borne
Lets pray he doesn’t have to die
To protect us all at home

A poppy is not just a paper flower
Its represents a life
A brother , son , uncle
Who leaves a grieving wife

So next time you see a poppy
Remember what it means
A fallen Hero
Who died for us
Some still in their late teens

On the
Lets bow our heads an pray
That another British soldier
Will not die on this sacred day.

© Tony McNally

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Its not just a paper flower it represents a life.

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