Time stands still for the man in the field,
to regain his composure and pick up his shield.
The wind breezes past him not leaving a chill,
courage engulfs him, he ascends the hill.
Dampened earth from the blood of men,
letters in hand….. love through a pen.
He moves with the grace of a courageous being,
protecting his mind from the carnage he’s seeing
He’s fighting this war for freedom and peace,
praying to God…..that killing will cease.
At last it’s over, they’ve come to yield,
He’s now a poppy…..that grows in that field
