09/11/2025
The morning breaks, the world stands still,
As silence drapes the vale and hill.
The bugle sounds, its echo flies,
Through whispered prayers and misty skies.
Red poppies bloom where sorrow sleeps,
A promise made, a vow it keeps.
For those who fought, for those who died,
Their names in time are sanctified.
They left their homes, their hopes, their years,
They faced the dark, they faced their fears.
So we may live, so we may be,
Beneath the flag of liberty.
And as the clock strikes eleven chimes,
We pause to think of other times—
Of laughter lost, of love undone,
Of battles fought, and freedom won.
So let us wear the poppy red,
In honour of the valiant dead.
Their courage lives, their spirit stays,
To guide our hearts through endless days.
