Why Wear a Poppy by Don Crawford

Will you wear a poppy?" the lady said
And held one forth, but I shook my head.
Then I stopped and watched to see how she’d fare
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 whistling down the street
Bouncing along on carefree feet.
His smile was full of joy and fun
"Lady’, he said, "May I have one?"
As she pinned it on I heard him say
"Why do we wear a poppy today?"



The lady smiled in her wistful way
And answered, "This is ANZAC Day.
The poppy there is the symbol for
The gallant men who died in our war.
And because they did, you and I are free
That’s why we wear a poppy you see."



"I had a boy about your size
With golden hair and big blue eyes.
He loved to jump and play and shout
Free as a bird he would race about
As years went on he learned and grew
And became a man as you will, too."



"He was fine and strong with a boyish smile
But he seemed with us such a little while.
When war broke out he went away
I still remember his face that day.
When he smiled at me and said ‘Goodbye
I’ll be back soon so please don’t cry.’"



"But the war went on so he had to stay
All I could do was wait and pray.
His letters told of the awful fight
I can still see it in my dreams at night.
With tanks and guns and cruel barbed wire
And mines and bullets, the bombs and fire."



'Til at last the war was won
"And that’s 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 home all right?"



A tear rolled down each faded cheek
She shook her head but didn’t speak.
I slunk away, head bowed in shame
And if you were with me, you’d have done the same.
For our thanks in giving is oft delayed
Though the freedom was bought and thousands paid.



And so you see, when a poppy is worn
Let us reflect on the burden borne.
By those who gave their very all
When asked to answer their country’s call.
That we are home in peace may live
Then wear a poppy, remember and give.


by Don Crawford

http://www.corranashworth.info/images/lestwe_forget.gif

In Flanders Fields

by John McCrae, May 1915
http://www.greatwar.co.uk/images/pop...cn5504x250.jpg
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Trinkie, thanks for starting this thread and, as you can see, I've added my contribution.

Would it be possible for you and any future contributors to add a little bit about the authors of the poems?

Here's just a wee bit about John McCrae.

"Inspiration for the poem — In Flanders Fields

During the Second Battle of Ypres a Canadian artillery officer, Lieutenant Alexis Helmer, was killed on 2 May, 1915 by an exploding shell. He was a friend of the Canadian military doctor Major John McCrae.
John was asked to conduct the burial service owing to the chaplain being called away on duty elsewhere. It is believed that later that evening John began the draft for his famous poem 'In Flanders Fields'."
Inspiration for In Flanders Fields

An American, Miss Moina Belle Michael, read In Flanders’ Fields and wrote a reply entitled -

WE SHALL KEEP THE FAITH.

Oh! You who sleep in Flanders’ fields,
Sleep sweet - to rise anew,
We caught the torch you threw,
And holding high we kept
The faith with those who died.
We cherish too, the poppy red
That grows on fields where valour led.

It seems to signal to the skies
That blood of heroes never dies,
But lends a lustre to the red
Of the flower that blooms above the dead
In Flanders’ fields.

And now the torch and poppy red
Wear in honour of our dead.
Fear not that ye have died for naught
We’ve learned the lesson that ye taught
In Flanders’ fields.

Thank-you for these most beautiful poems, they just touch your heart and having read all three I cry as I sit here. I will be ever grateful to them.