Field Of Poppies
By Isabelle Hammersley
Row upon row the poppies grow,
Each one a symbol to brave men we will never know.
They stood before us, they stood up straight,
For they were the men, the brave and the great.
The seasons come and the seasons go,
But unlike these men, the poppies will always grow.
We should always wear our poppies with pride
In tribute to those that fought and died.