No More Poppies in July

No More Poppies in July

Image adapted from

not Passchendaele, nor Somme,
Ypres or Armentiéres.
no memories of anyone
fallen in this field, yet poppies
bloom in their thousands.
red hues undulating across
an ephemeral landscape.

what is it She mourns?

She mourns the falling
of the Butterfly, nature driven
to the ghetto, replaced by
bivouacs of modern soldiers.

She mourns green
turning to grey
and suns eclipsed
by slated ridgeways.

She mourns her last Tango
in this fallen landscape.

Poppies can never shatter tarmac graves.

© Davy D 2017


I can sum this up in one word ‘magnificent’ !

Liked by 1 person

This is so powerful, Davy. I had to research some WWI history, though. I learned about the poppies springing up on battlefields where the land had been dug up for trenches and the dead had fallen. The landscape was obliterated. Would you mind sharing more about this? Even though I don’t quite get all the parts, yet, I agree with Nigel–“magnificent”!

Liked by 1 person

    Thank you Laura. This poem is a barbed poem about a piece of countryside where I live that is soon to be built on. There is a side story in that part of the land is owned by a local church and they sold it on the understanding that part of the land would be used as a burial ground (the local cemetery is now full). It now seems having acquired the land, the construction company are dragging their heels on the burial ground. It was as if the field knew it would be its last year as such and gave a wonderful display of poppies throughout June and July. Next year it will be a housing estate and I was using the reflection of the poppy in the battlefields of World War One as a framework for the poem.

    Liked by 1 person

      I figured it out before going to bed last night, minus the details you just provided. I couldn’t stop thinking about this poem and read with interest the connection between WWI and poppies. It became clear to me that the poppies must be mourning something “progress” related. I appreciate knowing the full story. Thank you! This has to be one of my favorites.

      Liked by 1 person

      A pleasure Laura and your kind words mean a lot to me. Thank you.

      Liked by 1 person

Beautifully poignant.

Liked by 1 person

… but the poppies do remain, a memorial to so much fearful history to be found there, back to Agincourt and before – all to be desecrated by 21st Century ‘advancement’. Beautifully expressed in your moving poem, Davy.

Liked by 2 people

Delightful words Davy. Nature being obliterated by progress.

Liked by 1 person

Brilliant, Davy. Bravo!

Liked by 1 person

This is a beautiful poem! Especially love the last three lines.

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