Flowers of war
The flowers that grow bring memories
The poppies blowing in the breeze
In swathes of red across the vale
Of Verdun, and of Passchendaele
Or Yellow sunflowers nodding tall
Which tell us of Mariupol
That grow in earth enriched by blood
Where brave defenders lately stood
The pipe’s lament for forest flowers
Nurtured for years but died in hours
Wasted in battle all the same
For greed dressed up as patriot games
Whilst evil grows beneath the sun
In aftermath, the flowers run
No comments:
Post a Comment