Red Poppies of Flanders
Red Poppies of Flanders
Digging trenches
Dawn to dusk
Forcing shovels
In the dust...
Weather's freezing
Clothes to skin
While it's raining,
Yet, again...
Rank and muddy
Head to toe
Slip and sliding
As we go...
The blinding lights
The deaf'ning sounds
The endless nights
In muddy grounds...
Trenches flooding
Through the ranks
Muddy waters
Breach the banks...
Wounds ooze bleeding
Muddy mix
Smell the Reaper
Reaching Styx...
Men and horses
Side by side
Some lay wounded
Others died...
Still we hold to
Fleeting hope
Among the shells
And stinking smoke...
Through fields of mud
And charred stick trees
Where nothing grows
Deep stained in blood...
But the poppy
Bright blood red
From these grounds
Of the dead...
These battle-scared
Fields' true price
Remembers All
Who sacrificed.
deborah burch©07.21.17
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