Ernestine Northover

Veteran Poet - 1,353 Points (25th March 1943)

*** Crimson Red - Poem by Ernestine Northover

I stood and watched, head bowed, as raindrops fell,
upon the Poppy Wreaths of crimson red.
They trickled down the petals like slow tears,
washing away the blood that had been shed.
And names inscribed in lead, now wet, shone out,
whilst gun metal clouds hovered overhead.

Footsteps sounded loud, as on concrete slabs,
people filed past, to pay their own respects.
Each one remembering a friend long gone,
Father or Son maybe, then recollects,
that person whom they loved, they're loving still,
and in that moment, each dear soul connects.

Each year we buy our Poppy, crimson red,
to wear upon our shoulder in respect.
Tributes laid out on grey memorial steps,
remind us of those lost, and we reflect,
that what they did for us, they did with pride,
and no clouds will our memories deflect.

© Ernestine Northover

Poet's Notes about The Poem

Remembrance Day - For the Fallen everywhere.

Comments about *** Crimson Red by Ernestine Northover

  • (7/27/2013 11:18:00 AM)

    Nice one Ernestine.Not been on this site in a long time. Excellent work as ever (Report) Reply

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  • (7/9/2013 9:10:00 AM)

    I like this. The beginning of the first stanza is excellent. In some lines the scansion doesn't seem quite right, though. (Report) Reply

  • (6/13/2013 2:15:00 PM)

    Lovely tribute to the fallen. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Poem Edited: Tuesday, January 1, 2013

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