The poppy there is the symbol for.
A boy came whistling down the street
Bouncing along on carefree feet.
His smile was full of joy and fun
“Lady’, he said, “May I have one?”
As she pinned it on I heard him say
“Why do we wear a poppy today?”
The lady smiled in her wistful way
And answered, “This is ANZAC Day.
The poppy there is the symbol for
The gallant men who died in our war.
And because they did, you and I are free
That’s why we wear a poppy you see.”
“I had a boy about your size
With golden hair and big blue eyes.
He loved to jump and play and shout
Free as a bird he would race about
As years went on he learned and grew
And became a man as you will, too.”
“He was fine and strong with a boyish smile But he seemed with us such a little while. When war broke out he went away I still remember his face that day.
When he smiled at me and said ‘Goodbye l’ll be back soon so please don’t cry “But the war went on so he had to stay All I could do was wait and pray.
His letters told of the awful fight
I can still see it in my dreams at night With tanks and guns and cruel barbed wire And mines and bullets, the bombs and fire. ‘Til at last the war was won”
And that’s why we wear a poppy, son.”
The small boy turned as if to go
Then said, “Thanks lady, I’m glad to know.
That sure did sound like an awful fight But your son, did he come home all right?” A tear rolled down each faded cheek She shook her head but didn’t speak. I slunk away, head bowed in shame And if you were with me, you’d have done the same. For our thanks in giving is oft delayed Though the freedom was bought and thousands paid.
And so you see, when a poppy is worn
Let us reflect on the burden borne. By those who gave their very all When asked to answer their country’s call.
That we are home in peace may live
Then wear a poppy, remember and give