FREED FROM SOLITUDE
The grass grows greener
where you lie
Your soul will assuredly live
you will never die
Close friends will always remember
they are with you close by
Your family still wear a broad smile
they don't wish to cry
The red poppies that bloom above
still heave a heavy sigh
We are all with you now
as we were before
You will be remembered for your devotion
to duty evermore
Even your enemies appreciate
peace is what you died for
An eternal truce is what the world
pleads for more
Peace and tranquillity to replace
the agony of war
Now that the fury of the storm
has finally ceased
The memory of your death in glory
has greatly increased
We will remember, now we know
you may never return
Gone to a pleasant land
where no one can hold your hand
Likewise the millions of other mortals
also gone
The good Lord is close by
this you must understand
In the darkness
of your new spirit life
Far removed from the horror
of the cruel war strife
Do consider it would be ill gain
to grieve
A new world was your destiny
this I believe
The mourning tears
that water the sacred poppies
If there is a life hereafter
you are guaranteed a reprieve
John Joseph Quinn,
Bishop Middleham
THE CHILD OF YOUR FUTURE (A reply)
The child of your future salutes you,
As he stands before your grave.
He thanks you for giving him freedom.
He can weep for the fall of the brave.
He knows that many volunteered,
And others were conscripted to go.
He knows though a Hobson's decision,
It was better to die than say no.
He tries to imagine, but cannot,
The unanswered prayers from on high,
The loving, the leaving, the loneliness,
The pain of a bloody goodbye.
The child of your future is legion,
And you will be legion too.
The many once born of the living,
The many once living, once you.
Your old friends have kept their promise.
They have told your story well.
Through them he sees your face,
Through them he touches hell.
The child of your futures salutes you,
As he stands before your grave.
He too was young and understands,
The sacrifice you made.
Elizabeth Morfoot,
Darlington
THE RED POPPY
The red poppies are now in bloom again,
to remind us, not to forget the fallen
at Flanders, the Rhine, the river Seine.
Each year, on the eleventh day,
at the eleventh hour, we remember the
fallen in battle by the poppy flower.
When one and all, will in silence respect,
those who their lives give,
so that we may in peace and tranquillity live.
What more could they honourably give,
when only two minutes, can we possibly give?
So let us remember this flower,
the hour and day, as long as we live.
Raymond Morris,
Norton on Tees.
THE POPPY
Have you peeped inside a poppy
And seen the beauty there?
Colours so exquisite
Delicate and rare.
But sadly they will fade
And each petal soon will fall
All so wonderfully made
By the Creator of us all.
So let's hold on to those things
Which can never fade away
Enjoy the love God has for us
Which forever more will stay.
Each flower is but a foretaste
Of the beauty yet to come
When Jesus in his mercy
Comes to take us home.
Meanwhile let's make the most
Of the passing beauty here,
Let's keep our eyes wide open
See Gods' wonders that appear.
Let's gaze and very gently feel,
For this fleeting glory is so real,
So soft and gentle to the touch,
A gift from God who loves so much.
Elizabeth Tomlinson,
Richmond
HE WAS THERE
On a visit to Hartlepool's Heugh Battery
With two guns facing out to sea
A plaque recalls,
A First World Bombardment
From an old foe Germany
In a small peaceful park
Three hundred yards away
Stands a Second World War memorial
Crowned by an angel
Whose outstretched arms
are reaching to the sky
Below her engraved in marble
Are names of Second World War heroes,
for our freedom they were to die,
Then a sight that met my eyes
No other can contest
A Chelsea Pensioner,
With his head bowed in reverence
A row of medals on his chest
Some say he comes here every year
On this his special day
They say old soldiers never die
They simply fade away
Gordon McCalllum,
Bowburn
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