Best Poppy Poems
The symbol of remembrance is the red poppy
When I look upon it, this is what I see,
I see courage, sacrifice and extreme bravery
See thousands enlisting to defend their country.
I see other nationalities, every colour and creed
Who came to help England in her hour of need
I see water filled trenches with deep mud and rain
I see flashes of gunfire and hear the wounded in pain.
I see and hear the big guns that sound like thunder
I see a Europe at war slowly being torn asunder
I see the deadly yellow clouds of dense mustard gas
Hear the cries of those poor souls breathing their last.
I see the battles that were won and some that were lost
I hear the sounds of victory that came at a great cost
I see the graves of the fallen who gave us that victory
Remembering the sacrifice they made for their country.
I feel the pain of the mothers who gave us their sons
At wars end feel the peace when they silenced the guns
We mourn all those that died and for them we must pray
But war is not the answer we must seek a better way.
When you wear your poppy always do so with pride
Honour two minutes silence for the brave fallen who died.
So the next time that you look upon that little red poppy
Just pause for a moment and tell me what you see.
Written 16th May 2018.
Feeling rife with satisfaction, I paint it black,
hours, minutes, seconds, let it bleed as tears go by.
Time waits for no one, she’s so cold - no looking back;
wild horses in my veins and I’m a fool to cry.
Hours, minutes, seconds, let it bleed. As tears go by,
can’t you hear me knocking, Heaven? gimmee shelter..!
Wild horses in my veins and I’m a fool to cry ~
sweet brown sugar is waiting for me to melt her!
Can’t you hear me knocking? Heaven, gimme shelter,
sympathy. For the devil shattered paradise;
sweet brown sugar is waiting for me to melt her.
Life, a beast of burden - shooting my tumbling dice.
Sympathy for the devil shattered paradise.
Waiting on a friend; sister morphine. I’ll miss you
life. A beast of burden shooting my tumbling dice,
it’s all over now, give the damn devil his due.
Waiting on a friend. Sister morphine, I’ll miss you.
Time, waits for no one... she’s so cold, no looking back.
It’s all over now. Give the damn devil his due
feeling rife with satisfaction... I paint it black.
Susan Ashley
April 7, 2018
~ Second Place ~
Contest: Music Pantoum
Sponsor: Silent One
*each line is 12 syllables and rhymes*
19 song titles
Rolling Stones; Song Titles:
Satisfaction, Paint it Black, Let It Bleed, As Tears Go By, Time Waits For No One, She’s So Cold, Wild Horses, Fool To Cry, Can’t You Hear Me Knocking, Gimme Shelter, Brown Sugar, Sympathy For The Devil, Shattered, Beast Of Burden, Tumbling Dice, Waiting On A Friend, Sister Morphine, Miss you, It’s All Over Now
*Street names for heroin*
Brown sugar, horse
Poppy so red and fine
you have a glow that no other
Poppyglow like a rising sun
You stretch your long and thin
stem up to your
Poppyball at sunset
The moon is creeping up
and we can dance a
Poppydance in moonlight
Night falls and I appreciate
a Poppy in my hair
Good night my beautiful
Poppy, good night
I feel Poppywind against my cheek
16.03.2012
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
A cocaine abuser named Norton
A fellow drug addict was courtin'
It was love at first sight
He'd found Mrs. Right
So he plucked her a poppy for snortin'
He came to me and gently brought,
the fairest flowers of His thought.
Joy arrived with euphoric mums,
softly as the hummingbird hums.
Purity blown from baby’s breath,
ever innocent until death.
Peace pervaded purest poppy,
tranquil bliss nothing can copy.
Happiness borne from pure lily,
butterfly wings, dainty and frilly.
Gratitude from feathered pink rose;
praises for His blessings arose.
Humility spread bold bluebells,
silken as bunnies’ cotton tails.
Faith that flourished in bright iris,
no other bloom so desirous.
Hope sprung forth from gladiolus,
comforting as lotus’ solace.
Love effused from fan-shaped aster,
greatest from our Lord and Master.
Graciousness shone from all flowers,
teaching of His perfect powers.
Time to remember this day
for the price they had to pay
wear the poppy coloured red
to pay tribute to our dead
for the loved ones lost at war
to remember what they fought for.
Fields of red, of poppy leaf
The fields where so many brave came to grief
Brave men indeed who refused to kneel
To give freedom to others, we remember them still
Fields of red, of poppy leaf
For Those men and boys who passed we grieve
The light extinguished in their eyes
But the dream of freedom was realised
Fields of red, of Poppy leaf
Freedom for all was their belief
This is the gift that they bestowed
The gift they gave as their lifeblood flowed
Fields of red, of Poppy leaf
Years have passed and still we grieve
We remember the fallen, the brave that have gone
The men and women all standing as one.
The Fields of red, of Poppy leaf…
Armistice day 11/11
Love is not
for the weak-hearted
who fall
at the slightest gust of charm
no, it is not a fairy-tale
containing nothing but words
of white horses
and happy endings
Sometimes, love wears thorns
and cleverly hides itself
behind the gesture of a rose
or worse yet
a man with no flowers at all
Once upon a time
In the imagination of a child,
Was a very lonely pirate
Who never, ever smiled.
The pirate had no friends at all,
He'd been mean and gruff and bad,
Now he was quite alone
And this made our pirate sad.
Everyday he'd search the land,
Not for jewels or gems,
What this pirate wanted most
Was to have a friend.
Each day he'd sail to islands,
Drop his anchor in the sea,
Go ashore with his telescope
And go on his hunting spree.
But no one likes a pirate,
People would run and hide,
They all thought he was scary,
"I just want a friend." he cried.
Meanwhile on an island,
Deep inside a cave,
Lived a beautiful Princess
Who'd been washed up by a wave.
A storm had hit her parents ship,
It had sunk into the sea.
The only one who had been saved,
Was Princess Poppy.
"I miss my King and Queen." she said,
"I really want a friend."
But the island was quite deserted,
She'd searched from end to end.
One day our pirate spotted
An isle he'd not seen before.
He dropped his heavy anchor
And waded onto shore.
He began his search with his telescope,
Saw birds amongst the trees,
Then he heard the sweetest sound
That floated on the breeze.
The pirate followed the lovely tune,
Found the cave and shouted in.
"Hello, hello." his voice echoed
It really made a din.
The Princess was very frightened,
Stopped singing right away.
She crouched down behind a rock,
Till she heard the pirate say.
"I'm only looking for a friend,
I promise I'm not bad.
I'm just all alone with no one
And this makes me feel quite sad."
The Princess came out from hiding,
"I am lonely too
I haven't any friends at all
And this makes me feel quite blue."
The pirate looked at Princess Poppy,
"We could be friends, you and me.
You can come aboard my ship
And we can sail across the sea."
Princess Poppy smiled
And took the pirates hand,
"I think" she said "I'd like that."
And they danced about the sand.
Princess Poppy loves the pirate,
They sail the ocean blue.
She sings him lovely songs all day,
They have a friendship that is true.
The pirate is never lonely,
He really did find gold,
Having a friend like Princess Poppy
Is the best feeling in the world.
4th February 2017
Poppy the parrot
Picked pus from a pimple’s peak
but then Poppy pricked Poe’s pajama pole
Patrolman Pat picked Poppy up by his beak
Prisoned Poppy pleads for parole
and pecks popcorn and crumbs all week
awash in crimson
colour and smell permeate
intoxicating
Her seed is tossed into the wind
Whirled from palms of nature's hand
By helter skelter randomness
The green and brown become a bliss
Scattered poppies across the land
Like butterflies, their beauty graces
The hills, valleys, and roadside places
A world comes alive with a golden glow
Like polished gems, where weeds would grow
Those scattered seeds will multiply
Take root, add warmth under summer skies
The beauty of her heart of gold
Will bloom with orange, so bright and bold
In winter storm a sleep begins
Until the thaw, when rains begin
A state is proud to bear her bloom
Her beauty never comes too soon
Chill
Autumn
in the air-
drops of sanguine
red.
>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.<
The British Red Poppy to me
Always creates a tear when near,
Half my family
Having died because of war.
All had to volunteer,
That was the thing to do.
My Great Grand father died
At a very early age.Died at at thirty,
Another war hero Was written on the doctors page.
My Grand Dad of whom I hardly knew,
Died going over the top,
Blown to pieces, no body to view.
His two daughters enlisted as nurses,
Killed together when their ferry hit a mine.
When we were winning the war too.
My dad was shot by a sniper,
My dad only lost his arm.
He puts the replacement on,
Every day and removes it at night.
It always hurts but he smiles,
And says he is feeling alright.
I pray to the God who is up there,
If you love us, stop all wars if you care.
Remembrance Day and the Poppy
Are important to me.
We must not forget those who gave their lives valiantly,
So that you and I can walk on our land and be free.
In the quietness of the night,
I give my own thankful prayer.
Our soldiers gave the greatest gift of all,
Protecting us with their love and care