Let the trumpet sound for the last roll call,
In this field of poppies for them all,
Silent now ? from strife and war
No battle cry ? on earth to fall.
Only peace and song of birds,
A stillness, on this cross clad land.
No sign of man ? or sound of voice.
Be still ? ye kin,
Grieve not ? Rejoice.
The call was answered,
We had no choice.
Fill your hearts with love, shed no tears,
Count not our lives in passing years,
For in this crimson poppyland,
Where the nameless crosses stand,
Tis God that takes us by the hand.
© Elizabeth Anderson 1963
Go back to the List