Saturday, November 29, 2008
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Sunday, November 09, 2008
See the poppy in the gutter?
Stain red the water coursing there?
Floats to drain with start and stutter
Past feet and eyes, all unaware
So passed-on, those myriad souls
Who gave their lives, who stood four-square
On sea, in air, in mud-filled holes
Their blood was spilled, our freedom won
For them we stand as church bell tolls
As a single beam from the sun
Illuminates a granite shrine
And tears flow for a lost loved-one
War's curse grows on a bitter vine
Remembrance is owed, yours and mine.