Gallipoli

• Gilda Good, Grade 6
• Poetry
• 2008

In that lonely place soldiers lie dead,
Among the poppies, oh so red,
The flowers so beautiful, stained in blood,
They blow in the wind, growing in mud,
You can still hear the poppy’s voices when the wind howls,
They say things so splendid of all things they saw,
Before the war began, they sorely wish they could see it some more.
I know all the secrets of the poppies that lie in that field,
I’ve heard of the poor soldiers that would never yield,
I know of all their past misery before they died,
They were so brave, side by side, they would slowly die,
That’s why I always wear a poppy on my clothes,
It helps me feel better, get past my woes,
I remember the soldiers, who fought for this place,
I feel so proud of the brave young men,
Remember all of them who now lie dead.