(25 November 1890 – 1 April 1918 / Bristol / England)

In The Trenches

I snatched two poppies
From the parapet’s ledge,
Two bright red poppies
That winked on the ledge.
Behind my ear
I stuck one through,
One blood red poppy
I gave to you.

The sandbags narrowed
And screwed out our jest,
And tore the poppy
You had on your breast ...
Down - a shell - O! Christ,
I am choked ... safe ... dust blind, I
See trench floor poppies
Strewn. Smashed you lie.

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Comments (1)

I am not impressed by this poem, it is not of a good standard. Very unimpressed. Will never be chosen for a [roject.