Red paints the fields where the poppies grow

After the battles there long ago.

Warmed by sunshine, watered by tears,

They still bravely bloom to remember those years.

Our soldiers were sent to a foreign land

To fight out of deep trenches in making their stand.

They struggled hard to remain warm and dry in the mud, rain, and snow

When they fought the Kaiser’s army so long ago.

Little imitation poppies were sold in the millions back then

To support the war effort and our fighting men.

They’re deep red like the bloodshed on the mud and snow,

These beautiful red poppies in the field where they grow.

Take just a moment to think and reflect.

Take the time to offer a thank you prayer in respect.

Someone order champagne and quickly remove the cork.

Let’s toast our dough boys and our hero, Sergeant York.

They still grow in the fields of yesterday.

They stand in remembrance and still hold sway.

In yesteryear, these poppies played their part.

When you wear one, I hope it matches the poppy in your heart.