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Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Under an ocean of poppies

Tijl Vercaemer, Wikimedia Commons image

Justine Jorgensen

Under an ocean of poppies
Above souls, safe and sound
Lie memories, deep scars
In an old battleground

Through the soft, crumbly earth
Rest traces of a flood
Of broken hearts and dreams
And rivers of blood

The leaves in the trees
Move with whispery calls
Remnants of shuddered last breaths
As eyes slowly fall

In the crimson stained petals
Of flowers full and bright
Linger feelings of hatred
Blind rage and fright

On the shoots of green grass
Rest imprints we don’t see
As soldiers lie in hiding
Praying they won’t have to flee
In the sun, we find memories
Of a bright flashing light
As the end of the tunnel draws close
Many men’s very last sight

The silence reminds us
Of the loved ones we lost
Who fought and died
Our freedom the cost

Under an ocean of poppies
Above souls, cold and asleep
Lie secrets and stories
The earth’s own to keep

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