When the cold winds blow
And the rain pummels
The poppies with apologies
And flowers that hid beneath
Mixing with the blood and mud
And empty casings disappear
Do not wait up for me.
When the summer heat lingers
And the rainbows fade
Or clouds take their time
Offering shade for others
New baby boys will come
And little girls, playing
Do not wait up for me.
When Flanders looks like Fallujah
And flowers begin to hide,
Or men in black with Kalishnikovs
Offer no apologies for executions,
Remember poppies will come back
In time like others who will repeat
Do not wait up for me.
Copyright © 2015 Charles Edward York
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Author:
Charles Edward York (
Offline) - Published: April 12th, 2022 04:09
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 27
- User favorite of this poem: Paul Bell.
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Comments2
The dead get deader and poppy fields grow redder by the day.
We're doing our bit militarily, but not really enough.
Excellent poem, It's sad but so well written. Great job! (hopefully soon we can have peace in the world)
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