I stood in the shadow of that historic Tower

Before a rain-drenched sea of red

The glistening ceramic poppies like a shower

Washing clean wrongs and lives long since dead.

From out of the gloom marched a Warder

(With a young guardsman bugler in tow)

Who soon called the living to order

And read out the names we would know.

We were witnesses to the sort of weather

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Each November we are reminded, watching poppies fall...

Each represents a life surrendered answering duty's call.

And later, in the weeks that follow, when snowflakes fill the sky,

The mind is filled with thoughts of those whose lives had soon passed by.

Each fleeting flake a forfeited future deprived of its true worth -

And like the poppies - sent to fall and fade back in the earth...

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