The Poppy - Ian Duquemin
I am the flower worn with pride
Commemorating those that died
My colour that of blood once spilled
Upon the muddy battlefield
When I am worn admire me
I represent what they set free
You, forever in their debt
Shall never then forget
Ian Duquemin
Labels:
Ian Duquemin,
Poem,
Remembrance,
War
Blog Archive
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2015
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November
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- Used To Be - Lyndon Queripel
- Conversation Overheard - Diane Scantlebury
- The Fairy Ring - Andrew Barham
- People - Trudie Shannon
- Daydreams - Bryony de Lat
- The Wind's Words - Tony Gardner
- She didn't care - Bryant Doyle
- Taken - Ian Duquemin
- What Is? - Martyn Legg
- Shooting In The Dark - Lyndon Queripel
- The Riddler - Tony Bradley
- Gone - Diane Scantlebury
- Loyalty - Chris Hudson
- Lament - Richard Fleming
- Another Day - Trudie Shannon
- Paris Be Strong - Ian Duquemin
- Hear for keeps - Bryant Doyle
- The Robins of Cardiff - Kathy Figueroa
- Dogs Enjoying Budloe Night - Tony Gardner
- The Poppy - Ian Duquemin
- Safe - Diane Scantlebury
- Just A Thought Away - Lyndon Queripel
- How Peculiar - Julian Clarke
- The Gynaecologist - Tony Bradley
- Paper Plane - Oscar Milde
- Remember, Remember… - Traditional
- The Demon and the Angel - Ian Duquemin
- Silver Surfing? - Jenny Hamon
- Flotsam - Diane Scantlebury
- Why Is It Called A Boxing Ring When It's A Square?...
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November
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