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A Poppy In Winter
A Poppy In Winter
November mists come down in shrouds of grey
and folk remember, with their poppies red,
the loss of sixteen million war dead
and how the guns fell silent on this day.
So who are you to deem to have a say
on whether I should honour those who bled
by crimson colours? – or perhaps, instead,
in remembrance there is another way.
For I would guess that mo...
Tuesday 6th November 2018 3:16 pm
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