One bright day I went for a jog,
and bumped into an elderly lady walking her dog.
Her poppy fell off and fell to the ground,
but she just bent down and picked it up without making a sound…
“Why do we wear a poppy?” I turned to say,
“We all wear a poppy on Remembrance Day!”
“But why this flower? Why this one?”
“Sit down and I’ll tell you a story about my Great Grandfather John…”
She coughed two times and then three,
and she told me to come and sit on her knee.
“My ancestor John was a hero.” she began
“He fought in the first war when he finished his exams.”
“So, why is he a hero? Please tell me!”
She told me I just had to wait and see.
“He went overseas and went to the war.”
“Why did he go? What was it for?”
“Some sort of rubbish I hate to say,
Four years of war ended on this day.”
But sadly poor John never came back,
he didn’t turn around…
he was shot in the back.
In Flanders in all of the mud and dew,
some scarlet poppies grew and grew.
That’s why we wear a poppy today,
to remember the soldiers that went away.
She reached into her coat pocket,
and pulled out a locket,
and showed me what was inside.
It was a picture of John,
but although he was gone,
you could see his braveness and pride…
“Promise me one thing…” the woman said that day.
“Wear a poppy on this special day.”