Linda Summerfield

Hello my name is Linda i am married to Sid,


════╔══╗Gone But
════║══║Not Forgotten
═╔══╝══╚══╗♥ ♰ ♥ ♰
═║════════║
═╚══╗══╔══╝
════║══║Put This On Your
════║══║Page If You Know
════║══║Someone Who Is In
════║══║Heaven's Garden. ------♥♥------Put This
----♥♥-♥♥--- - On Your
---♥♥---♥♥-- -Profile If
---♥♥---♥♥-- -You Know
---♥♥---♥♥-- -Someone
----♥♥-♥♥--- -Who Died
-----♥♥♥----- Of
----♥♥-♥♥--- -cancer And
---♥♥---♥♥-- -You Love
--♥♥-----♥♥- -very much 'Please wear a poppy', the lady said
and held one forth, but I shook my head.
Then I stopped and watched as she offered them there,
And her face was old, and lined with care;
But beneath the scars the years had made
There remained a smile that refused to fade.

A boy came wistling down the street,
Bouncing along, on care free feet
His smile was full of joy and fun,
'Lady', said he, 'May I have one?'
When she pinned it on, he turned to say,
'Why do we wear a poppy today?'

The lady smiled in her wistful way,
and answered, 'This is Rememberance Day,
And the poppy there is the symbol for,
the gallant men who died in war,
and because they died you and I are free--
Thats why we wear a poppy, you see'.

'I had a boy about your size,
with golden hair and big blue eyes.
He loved to play and jump and shout,
free as a bird he would race about.
As the years went by, he learned and grew
and became a man--as you will, too.'

'He was fine and strong, with a boyish smile,
but he'd seemed with us such a little while
When war broke out and he went away,
I still remember his face that day.
When he smiled at me and said'Good-bye,
I'll soon be back, mom, so please don't cry'.

'But the war went on and he had to stay,
and all I could do was wait and pray.
His letters told of the awful fight,
(I can see it in my dreams at night),
with the tanks and guns and cruel Barbed wire,
and the mines and bullets, the bombs and fire.'

'Till at last the war was won-
and thats why we wear a poppy son'.
The small boy turned as if to go,
Then said 'Thanks lady, i'm glad to know.
That sure did sound like an awful fight,
But your son-- did he come back alright?'

A tear rolled down each faded cheek;
she shook her head, but didn't speak.
I slunk away in a sort of shame,
and if you were me you'd have done the same;
For our thanks, in giving, is oft delayed,
though our freedome was bought-and thousands paid.

And so when we see a poppy worn, let us reflect on the burden borne
By those who gave their very all
and asked to answer their country's call
That we at home in peace might live.
Then wear a poppy. Remember-- and give!

Lest we forget.



About this poem:
Copyright © 2009 by Blair Leger & ilovepoetry.com

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