Somewhere
In dead-man's land
red poppies grow,
Fertilised by blood,
sun and winter snow;
And on widows' weeds
streams of sadness flow,
Lost freedoms seeds
beneath ignorance goes
To no-man's land
where,there were but crows;
With Spring's new life
real peace they can know,
In the Morning Star's
perpetual glow!
Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2009
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment