It Runs Red

A dry and barren moat around historic tower, London’s pride for many years in restful dormant mood dreaming of days gone by when swords clashed and armour creaked; the yells and screams of battle filled the air. Testament of courage and pain; did those who fought there die in vain? A dry and barren moat now back to life to mark Remembrance Day with a gushing flow of poppies dressed in red reflecting thoughts of Flanders. Who dedicates these scarlet blooms, to souls that rest in earthen tombs? A dry and barren moat its open bleeding heart that drips with recollections of destructive devastation and needless deaths. Governments rise only to fall; cries still trapped in the tower's wall. A dry and barren moat where visitors now see the red carpet in place to praise bravery. Haven't families of lost soldiers earned a red carpet too? Let them saunter somberly above the moat, across the fields. Such is the costly price of war; buried loved ones we'll see no more. A dry and barren moat encases the historic tower, a silhouette reminder at sunset that no one wins a war. A lone bugle plays taps; it resounds through the crisp air. A sad family walks away, leaving tears on a floral spray. --------------------------------------------------- Paul Callus & Carolyn Devonshire (Nov. 2014)