Prose & Poetry - War Poetry of S J Robinson - Now Poppies Grow
Reproduced within this area
of the site are present-day First World War poems written by S. J. Robinson.
Click here for
an introduction to the poems.
Now Poppies Grow
Here, once, a soldier died
in stalemate slow
Now where he fell, bright poppies grow.
Once horror reigned and death was rife,
Missing comrades haunted soldier's life
The shells, the noise, the
battle throng,
A whistle foretold sleep eternal long;
For, over the top, he rejoined dead friends
In that sweet peace which never ends
Eighteen or twenty, maybe
less,
Soldier's age of death, upon that crest.
A wasteful loss, a generation flown -
There, lie many, still Unknown
A chilling hush fills the
mourning air
They rest here, safe, without age or care
Beneath long grass, under air so still
Peace hides their graves, in trench, on hill
The most worthy monument? A
poppied field.
To the carnage? The Iron Harvest yield
But from where the birds in war have flown,
The ghosts of Ypres and Somme live on...
A "dope can" was a metal syringe containing petrol for priming an aircraft engine.
- Did you know?
