The poppy seller
A proud man.
He stands in the street
seemingly oblivious
to the chill November breeze.
On his head,
his regimental beret.
On his chest,
a row of brightly polished medals.
From a strap
around his neck,
hangs a tray
of blood red paper poppies.
A proud man,
doing what he can
to remind us today
of those who died so we’d be free.
Let's not forget what they've done for us :) well-penned Keith
ReplyDeleteThank you Lady Lee
DeleteMy favorite part: a tray
ReplyDeleteof blood red paper poppies.
Glad you liked it Theresa
DeletePeter picked a peck of paper poppies...
ReplyDeleteIndeed he did!
DeleteGoid verse!
ReplyDeleteThanks Wander
DeleteOh how wonderful this is! I love the perspective!
ReplyDeleteThanks for your generous words Carol.
DeleteA face with a service which makes you eager to buy the whole lot.We do remember Sir.
ReplyDeleteReading this, I realize it's a shame that this practice has faded from my homeland. Now I wonder why. Thank you for this.
ReplyDeleteAmen to that. Those brave men and women deserve our thoughts all year long.
ReplyDeletePowerful and poignant. Nice job!
ReplyDelete