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>River Orwell and a Poppy field
By Stanley Russell Harris
(The mad Author)

I went out with the wife today.
We walked by the River Orwell I say.
Tide was out, but breeze was swell.
Ensured there was no stinking town smell.

Grasses looked so green and fresh.
Honey bees were buzzing on the clover bless.
Gathering pollen, for their queen. 
Soon to be, in their hive seen.

Then we visited a poppy clad field.
Photos by the score, that field did yield.
Wife’s camera clicked away that day.
Must have been red hot I say. 

The poppies were like those of Flanders red.
You know those growing for our dead.
For our brave men, who died there and bled.
Who should have returned home alive instead. 

Now we bicker and do shout.
As GB from EU do want out.
Yet deep in that mud our kinfolk hide.
Red poppies now grow where they peacefully lie.

I hope our cries do not disturb them.
Our brave and gallant country men.
Who laid down their lives for you and me.
So we from chains could live free.

Was weird finding that field today.
Red poppies in the breeze did sway.
Reminded me of those days, of long ago,
when our brave men died in Flanders fields, so…

No more World Wars should we fight.
EU should now respect our rights.
As our ancestors won us the right,
to leave the EU free, if rules seem now not right.

Soon all countries in the EU will be free.
Of Brussels domination, just you see.
We might be the first country to break free.
But not the last, just wait and see. 

If not, then I am sad to say
EU will sadly fade away.
Remember you read it here today.
And now I’ll put pen and pad away.

As I remember those brave men I say,
and those fields of red poppies today.

It is no coincidence that on the 1st of July 2016  we will be remembering the action of those gallant men who's lives were sacrificed in those blood stained fields of The Battle of the Somme. July 1st to November18th 1916.The same fields  where those bright red poppies grow. You might see pictures of our poppies on my Facebook page if you so wish.  Although not a war poet, I would like to dedicate this poem to those gallant forefathers or ours. Many of course who still lie peacefully in Flanders fields. Stanley (The mad Author) PS This will be in Poems Book 10.<
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