Beneath the poppies they lie, our fallen
protectors, who gave their lives to stop foes
from near and far from taking God-given
rights to life and liberty. In the throes
of battle they never failed to take down
the enemy, ’till snicker-snack, their match
met, one unlucky sword thrust took them down.
Up they got to fight ’till a bullet catch–
then to earth they went, eternal sleep bent.
Their eyes close on this churned up battlefield,
then open on a field of poppies meant
to greet their tired souls. Red flowers reveal
their memory honored by those they saved,
their struggle ends now in the peace they craved.
Prompt courtesy of Magpie Tales