Remembrance Sunday

 "They shall not grow old as we that are left grow old. At the going down of the sun, and in the evening, we shall remember them." 

God save the King. 

Slava Ukraini. 

 

Poppies, a villanelle

 

The poppies grow where blood once fell;

Scarlet, their coats in brave array,

Remind us of those years of hell.

 

 Ravaged the scene, where once did dwell

The peaceful farmer day by day;

The poppies grow where blood once fell.

 

Ravaged and torn by shot and shell;

A landscape torn in shades of grey

Remind us of those years of hell

 

And in the church the single bell

Tolling the cost of this affray;

The poppies grow where blood once fell.

 

In hope, for a better world they sell

Young lives, a bitter price to pay;

Remind us of those years of hell.

 

For those too numerous to tell

Respect for sacrifice this day;

The poppies grow where blood once fell

Reminding of those years of hell.