And The Poem Lives On.

Among Flanders poppies, dead bodies lie beneath rows of white crosses that point to the sky...men in their prime who fought for our lives, linger long in our memories and in the archives. Beautiful sunbeams and beautiful stars cast a bright light on the place where they are. And how the moon shines with a fiery glow, on the graves of the 'brave' from long long ago. In misty November at the same time each year, we stand and we think of those heroes so dear, recalling World Wars, in silence we pray ~ as red poppies tell the story of Remembrance Day. Poem posted for year 2009.