Give me the blood red poppy,
With one black beady eye
Bobbing in the wind
On hairy green stalk
Home to the spider
Jewel of the corn field
Cheery wayside friend
Beacon in the mud of Flanders
Flashing danger
And hope
Living among the dead
Give me the blood red poppy
Not a paper reproduction
Pinned on my chest
I would rather wear my heart
On my sleeve and say
Thank you
To those
Who, without ceremony
Gave their life
Rightly—or wrongly
I will remember
I do remember,
Who could forget?