The Poppy

Proud and tall within our fields,
A memory of our dead
A vibrant splash of colour,
A brilliant sea of red.
They stand for pain and suffering,
The killing fields of war
Where men and women perished,
As millions have before.
When will the fighting ever end.
Can we hope there’ll be an hour,
When people live as friends in peace
And the poppy’s just a flower.

Jacky Leonard © June 2012

Author’s notes
One of my personal favourites.  I was running with my dog, Boots through the Cotswolds lanes to meet one of my best mates for breakfast.  I was inspired by the splendour of the thousands of poppies in the fields and struck by the incongruity of their beauty with the horrors of war which they are now associated.

I arrived asking for a pen and paper to capture my thoughts and it was written by the time breakfast was served.  

1 comment so far

  1. Amanda Baker on

    Such a nice poem, and one that I can say means a lot, my favourite flowers


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