Tuesday, 17 October 2017

Why I wear a poppy

Why I Wear My Poppy

Why I Wear My Poppy



Mike Read, radio presenter

“For men who volunteered their lives and gripped their bibles at the front, Who stood in rat-infested trenches and passing them in feet or inches, Death, who blew their pals to pieces; Death whose mission never ceases. Because of men who signed their names to fight an unseen, unknown foe; For those who lives were swiftly ended. So let the country they defended Keep their names in flames of poppies, let once more the traffic stop its Mighty roar and silence fall upon the land, remembering each and every man Who never saw his home again. The rain, the mud, the flying shells The bells that rang his name in church all far beyond and far away As there he lay in Flanders, Marne, Arras, Ypres or Neuve- Chapelle. Perhaps the coast of La Belle France was where he danced his final dance The quickstep down at Normandy and never more his girl to see Except in dying dreams, he’d reach to hold her once more on the beach, As little ships and crew all worked to take his mates home from Dunkirk. I wear my poppy for these men, and women too, who fought for freedom, Liberation, a nation’s pride; our history and heritage, For the future generations, those unborn and other nations Without the wherewithal or power, from final push to ‘Finest Hour.’ So wear these flowers of remembrance, emblems of those generations, Who sacrificed in clearing stations, open warfare, trenches, oceans, In the skies and in the deserts laying down their precious lives, From Flanders Fields the poppy’s blown and worn with pride it stands alone.”

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