#poppiesofremembrance
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