Poetry

The Wind Will Never Forget
The tears of life now sleep with them
the guns have found their silence.
These fields of war are now in peace,
only the poppies remain
 
These red petals that cover this land
with remembrance of yesterday,
of the suffering and pain,
for our lads have passed this way.
 
These brave boys
Who bore their innocence
to this thing we call war
who renounced their gift of life for us
 
Strangers to you and me
yet more dearer to our souls than family
for here lies the cross of Jesus
the pain of everyman
 
That sacrifice that only youth can give
their epitaph is our peace
The rose of England bows its head
in reverence and humbled grace
and may god bless all of them
 
For our boys were the roses
that flowered in every village
the Jack’s and Jimmie’s
the Tom’s and the Bert’s
No more footsteps for mother to hear
their laughter stolen by the wind
all quiet now in village square
 
But on a wall in a foreign land
their names are lovingly remembered.
Grandchildren shout their names with pride
for they are the seeds of England
 this immortal rose cannot die
for they were beautiful
 
And we who are alive
You who take the time to stop
who bow your heads in silence
will feel their pain
 
Feel the pain of Nations grief
as the petals fall from above
and we will remember life
for life is what they gave to us
 
The poppies that grow in Flanders field
are reminders of those who have no grave
and our tears will remember them too.
We who live in freedom,
because of them, because of them.