Bella Loves Bows - Addicted to CAS # 124
White Snowflakes for Paper Players #370

Lest We Forget

Those of you who have been with me for a while may remember that every Poppy Day (Remembrance Day) in England, my father would proudly wear a poppy and visit the cenotaph.  He never missed it.  Never.  It was his own way of remembering his friends and comrades lost in arms.  Always guilty and always grateful, that he returned home to his family.

Even though Dad has been dead for some 30 years, I never let this day go without paying tribute to those we have lost.  As the War to End All Wars fades and we are now 72 years away from the end of WW2, it becomes so important to remember those brave souls who lost their lives so that we could live ours.  It's also important to remember those who have lost their lives in war since.  It truly is a day that we should all take the time to remember and to honor them.

I decided to share my friend Pammie's poem again this year.  It so poignantly captures the essence of so many of those soldiers who lost their lives, especially in WW1.  Young men from working class homes who never truly knew life, but were exposed to hell in the trenches.  Never to return home.

The Photograph 

He didn't know his country only his street
never saw waves or fields full of wheat
he'd seen many canyons in the mines far below
as he shovelled the sweat with the coal
He worked hard for his supper this coal dusty man
Married my gran money already spent
moonlighting flits couldn't pay rent
Dossed down with neighbours on hard wooden floors
shared out the bread and the womanly chores
the pride slowly ebbed from this destitute man
Never went to church in borrowed Sunday best
but polished his shoes in his worn holy vest
waited on dinner pathetic pale stew
sat on hand me down chairs not long glossy pews
Yet he worshiped his own this unholy man
Saved by sirens war in France
Fair exchange arms for pence
smart in his uniform buttons shone bright
she stood on the pavement and waved him from sight
gone was the soldier a very young man
Still she yearns for her courageous young man
now sitting like stone pale and wan
he was framed long ago for his sweethearts mantle
he died in the war she lit him a candle
and cried for her Bill a very brave man.


Rembrance sunday


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Barb Ghig

Such a stunning tribute to all those who serve and have served, Jaydee! A lovely poem, too...your dad would be so proud to know that you carry on this tradition each's so sweet of you!
We are also honoring our Service men and women today...we call it Veteran's Day, and it's so nice to see and hear all the beautiful ceremonies around the country.


What a wonderful poem thank you for sharing it!

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