POPPIES, FLANDERS
by
D. McNamara
It wasn’t a wrong turn, after all
Away from Brugges to
Dunkirk
And the tears of frustration
After all that driving
And careful navigation
Were not, after all, for me
But for all “our chaps;” English,
Irish, Scottish, Welsh and Yanks
Buried in Franco Belgian soil
We don’t mention the wars now
But in the drive from Milan, north,
North through Switzerland
Up, up and away across the autobahn
The oppression was still there
Hovering in the bright clean air
And the beautiful skies, gleaming
Over nations fair.
The boys of World War I
Too many shed their blood
In the fields and the marsh
And the mud
That we do not quantify
Nor name
The shame of bigotry
And Hanover’s sibling rivalry
This shame
Of brutality
Of repeated cruelty
Of contempt
For the empty arms
And shattered hearts
of mothers
Moms,
Your sons are alive
Do not weep
“They are not dead,
but sleep,”
In the heart of
Another mother’s Son
I continued my drive
through the
Swards of red and gold
Poppies and wheat and
Started to weep like one
bereaved
I pulled over the car
And cradled my head
on the wheel on the
Road through the
Poppy Fields of Flanders
And suddenly my sadness ceased
I felt a profound and radiant peace
And continued my journey
No longer alone
But bringing home
The hearts of
Our brothers, fathers, sons and spouses
From that moment on
I was aided and blessed
By my brothers in arms
No longer oppressed
Guided in best ways
For the rest of the day
And I felt quite merry
On the Norfolk Line ferry
Which gave me to sleep
A crew cabin, clean and neat
But it was over too soon
Docking in Dover
By the light of a chalk-lit moon
“We” were home once more
On England’s much loved shore
A beautiful, glorious sight
O sweet and lovely Albion night
by Deirdre McNamara, Dec 17th 2005. Revised January 4, 2006
“Poppies, Flanders” is dedicated to all men and women who gave their lives inthe service of Freedom and in a special way to Peter Balfour of Norfolk Ferries, an angelic guardian for the latter part of that strange journey through History and Time, to Home.
June, 2002. Mild revision, Nov 9, 2007
Link to flier of Ladybard’s drama, ”NINE ELEVEN”
Dierdre, What an incredible poem. Thank you for sharing it, and thank you for working with us in Scranton. Your blog is a delight and your account of those last four pre election days is a treasure.
Best,
m;)