I’m not the best poet, I don’t pretend to be, but I couldn’t let remembrance day pass, surrounded by Poppies and not recognize my own little Poppy. I didn’t realise when she was born, when we named her that every November we would have such a massive reminder of our little lady – So here is a poem I wrote (not very eloquently) but sums up this remembrance day for me…
POPPY
A little paper poppy – I’ve worn one for years;
But never have I felt such immense pain and tears.
In gratitude I bow my head, thankful to all who fought & fell; Remembered now by a flower of red.
But there are those who came & left silently, who fought for their life & battled non-violently.
Victims to a rare defect & illness, but then suddenly gone in a moment of stillness.
My own poppy is one of these& I choose to always remember;
Fought but born sleeping, a memory to pain me every November…
Every November where we think of those in war, but what about the ones who battled that the world never saw?
I wear a paper poppy, I’ve worn for one years but with a poppy in my heart there’s never been such pain & tears.
By Mary Smith Nov 2014 in memory of Poppy Quinn Smith ~ born sleeping September 2014