General Chat

I thought this might be the right time to give this poem another airing - It always brings tears to my eyes and my husband and son both leave a copy of it at work next to the box of poppies that they sell there.

WHY WEAR A POPPY?



Please wear a poppy, the lady said,
And held one forth, but I shook my head.
Then I stopped and watched as she offered them there
And her face was old and lined with care.
But beneath the scars the years had made
There remained a smile that refused to fade
A boy came whistling down the street
Bouncing along on carefree feet
His smile was full of joy and fun
Lady, he said, may I have one?
When she pinned it on he turned to say
Why do we wear a poppy today?
The lady smiled in her wistful way
And answered this is Remembrance Day
And the poppy here is the symbol for
The gallant men who died in the war.
And because they did you and I are free
That’s why we wear a poppy you see.
I had a boy about your size
With golden hair and big blue eyes
He loved to play and jump and shout
Free as a bird he would race about
As the years went by he learned and grew
And became a man - as you will too.
He was fine and strong, with a boyish smile
But he seemed with us such a little while.
When war broke out, he went away.
I still remember his face that day
Then he smiled at me and said goodbye
I'll be back soon mum, so please don't cry.
But the war went on and he had to stay
And all I could do was wait and pray
His letters told of the awful fight
(I can still see it in my dreams at night)
With the tanks and the guns and the cruel barbed wire
And the mines and the bullets, the bombs and the fire.
Till at last, the war was won
That’s why we wear a poppy son.
The small boy turned as if to go
Then said 'thanks lady” I'm glad to know
That sure did sound like an awful fight
But your son - did he come home alright?'
A tear rolled down each faded cheek
She shook her head but didn't speak.
I slunk away in a sort of shame
And if you were me you'd have done the same.
For our thanks, in giving, is oft delayed
Though our freedom was bought - and thousands paid.
And so when you see a poppy worn
Let us reflect on the burden borne
By those who gave their very all
When asked to answer their country's call
That we at home in peace might live,
And then wear a poppy,
Remember - and give.

Kath. x

Thank you Kath, a beautiful poem and a good reminder.

Had to print that, my Father was captured at Mons at the start of the First World War, and was a prisoner of war for 4 years, it hits home to think that I'm sitting here because he was one of the few lucky ones. F.

n

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Now I am old, it hits home how young most of these men and women were. More grown up than todays youth of the same age, as they had mostly been out at work since 14yrs old.

I can't watch the films of WWl.

As a child the jerky men are funny,as an adolescent and young adult everyone is invincible.

Suddenly,and without you ever noticing,you become of an age to be the mother or even grandmother of one of those funny jerky men.
Then you can't watch the films any more.

A beautiful poem, Kathleen. Thank you for sharing it with us.
Makes me remember what some of my family members had to go through during both Wars
God bless them all.

Kathleen - Thanks, what a beautiful poem.

Thanks Karen for telling us who wrote it. I didn't know but after Googling it appears you are correct. The author of the poem died in 2000.

I first read it on Genes quite a few years ago and no matter how many times I read it I always end up with a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes.

Kath. x

I loved that poem, it was so poignant.

I saw a drama once on TV... of a man who was badly injured in WW1, an horrific film which 'cut me' up for YEARS!
It was so bad and as far as I know it was only ever shown once.... thank goodness for that!!
What angers me is the fact that the poppies are sold with very little REMEMBERANCE.
If you understand what I mean.

I remember selling them on street corners when I was a child, but did not really understand until I grew up.... and I was an Army Child!
Deanna X

Hope no one minds if I borrow this wonderful moving poem
Liz

n.