#honourthefallen
At the Light of Each Day
At the light of day, awake and arise,
Yet amidst the rush, heed my gentle advice.
Take a moment to pause, remember with grace,
The eleventh hour, a solemn space.
On the eleventh day of the eleventh month,
Honouring those who faced the crest and the front.
Their sacrifice, a gift profound,
A legacy of freedom, courage unbound.
At the light of each day, a life given by many,
To grant you freedom, a gift plenty.
So, in each morning's gentle ray,
Pause, remember, and silently say…
"We will remember them," in heartfelt accord,
Their bravery, their spirit, forever stored.
At the light of each day, let us never forget,
The heroes who gave all, with no regret.
Mar 8
Mar 8, 2026 at 4:29 AM UTC
***
WHISPERS IN THE GRAIN
Silent fields murmur
stories etched in weathered earth
footsteps linger still
their shadows dance with the rain
echoes of the brave remain
***
ENDURING LIGHT
Lost hearts softly breathe
woven through the quiet night
strength in stillness glows
a flicker that will not fade
guiding us through darkest hours
***
LEGACY UNBROKEN
Storms have tested them
yet they rose with steady grace
honour shining bright
memories time cannot dim
their legacy standing firm
***
SACRED NAMES
Courage blooms in grief
where the brave once laid their claim
sorrow turns to vow
in remembrance we hold them
renewing each sacred name
***
STARS OVER THE DEEP
Bright stars overhead
shadows dance on restless waves
sailors drift through fate
dreams carried like whispered foam
lost yet longing for the dawn
Mar 6
Mar 6, 2026 at 3:19 AM UTC
Away From Home
You missed my ship.
I’m on my way now.
You know that I am gone.
You may hear the horn blast —
I’m five hundred miles from home now,
I’m on my way.
Tomorrow, another war I meet.
The battles will soon draw near.
Silence among us — no words,
only thoughts, thoughts of home.
I’m five hundred miles from home now;
a new shore glimmers ahead.
Lord, oh Lord — the battle begins.
Silence among us, no words.
Thoughts of what comes next.
Who will it be? Eyes staring,
fears hidden, smiles raised.
I’m five hundred miles from home now;
a new shore, and I do not stand alone.
Lord, hold my hand.
I now step into this fight.
It is not silent now — thunder.
Rage, rage like never seen before.
Visions of horror screaming,
the noise a constant deafening roar.
I’m five hundred miles from home now;
a new night I will endure.
Night becomes day — thunder, lightning,
flashes like shooting stars.
I move forward, fixed on the storm.
No words, only hidden fears,
raised smiles and nods of “okay.”
Slowly, with intent, I will calm this storm.
I’m five hundred miles from home now;
a new silence — the storm is gone.
Lord, thank you, thank you.
Now there are words,
many, many words.
Smiles become laughter.
I’m five hundred miles from home now.
My ship sails tonight.
I’m going home.
I will see you soon.
But my friends —
so many, so many —
lost, lost in the storm, lost forever.
But their pain and horror gone,
carried now on a warm sunset’s touch.
I am home,
but my heart is heavy.
No words — flagged coffins pass,
row on row. I stand and watch.
Lowered heads, tipping hats.
The bugle sounds — haunting.
A flower covered road, tears,
so many tears.
For what, I ask you — for what.
Feb 22
Feb 22, 2026 at 7:30 AM UTC
Poppies of Remembrance
Amidst the bustling street, I found him there,
An old soldier selling poppies with care.
Inquisitive, I sought his story to hear,
About his time in battles, far and near.
"I did my job, lad," the soldier said to me,
Asked where he fought, his response set me free:
"Anywhere they sent me, without a clue,
Just followed the one ahead until we grew few."
"Follow me," always a voice would call out,
No questions asked, only duty devout.
"Did you never wonder where you'd go?"
A fleeting thought that he came to know.
"Don't worry yourself," the soldier explained,
"Just do your job, no need to be pained."
"Did you shoot anyone?" I ventured to pry,
"I just did my job," was his steadfast reply.
"Lost many friends?" I probed with a sigh,
His response pierced through, making me cry.
"I lost fathers, grandfathers, many kin,
Brothers, sisters, mothers, souls akin.
We cried to God in varied tongues,
Fellows from lands with different runs.
Heroes in their sacrifice, pure and strong,
Some returned, but others forever gone.
"Now they continue to do their part?"
With a poppy in hand, he spoke from the heart,
"Proudly I wear, and offer to you,
To remember those whose courage rings true.
Friends, fathers, grandfathers of old,
Mothers, grandmothers, stories untold.
They secured our peace, our freedom they sowed,
For the liberties we now proudly bestowed.
Free because they did their job so grand,
Their spirit and sacrifice will forever stand."
With a tear in his eye and a trembling voice,
He reminded me to cherish and rejoice.
I accepted the poppy, a symbol so bright,
A tribute to those who fought for what's right.
Remember, he whispered, as I walked away,
Their bravery and honour, never to sway.
By Paul Baldry (LongJohn)
Feb 20
Feb 20, 2026 at 12:17 PM UTC
Silently mountains whisper,
Footsteps of the brave remain,
Shadows of lost hearts.
In the stillness, they breathe strength,
A legacy of honour.
Feb 18
Feb 18, 2026 at 3:11 AM UTC