remembrance

in fieldsÂ
where silence reigns
as poppies bloomÂ
in this hallowed place
the stones do stand
they stand in grace
each etched in name
they are the fallenÂ
a whispered past
the grave stones know
they are the guardiansÂ
keepers of the fallen
on this solemn day
hear our call
they whisper to the sky
we are the echoes of war
for we stand watchÂ
over the honored dead
we are the echoesÂ
of the final goodbye
Â

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Comments
And we've not learned much Janie have we. One day we shall run out of fields to remember them all. Great write love x
Great poetry Janie, welcome to cosmo. X
thank you