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‘Poppy on East Hill, Sudbury’ by
Jay Cool
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Poppy is a blood-red word,
No pulse, now lost
No heartbeat, hampered
Called out for World War’s cost.
Yet poppies, red and proud,
Sit high atop
Linen suits in crowds
Giving life to men’s non-stop
Legs that march to beat of drum
As sockets swing
Arms, punching right, fist and thumb
For them, no wars, impending
Today, I wear my poppy
Proud, and Uncles, great
Remember.
Copyright owned by Jay Cool, Sunday 11th November, 2018
Composed in remembrance of my many Great-Great Uncles, from Myddle, Shropshire and Wolverhampton & Birmingham, in the West Midlands, who gave their lives in the First World War.
The Silly-Savvy Salopian in Suffolk: read, believe and write ... 