For Remembrance Sunday.
For Remembrance Sunday.
Sarah Potter Writes
symbolic of war and peace.
through to elegant maroon,
not a white petal in sight.
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A lovely tribute, Sarah.
Thank you, Sylvia. I thought it would be nice to reblog it for those who missed it first time round.
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Thank you, Kimberly.
Pretty photos and poem despite the subject matter, Sarah. It’s astounding, if one thinks about it, the number of people killed in just the 20th century owing to one human war or another–and then there are those who “survive,” but are deadened inside in some way. I try not to think about it, honestly.
There’s all the animals, too. People often forget about them. Horses. Dogs. Cats. Domestic pets had a terrible time of it during the bombing raids on London, suddenly homeless and trying to fend for themselves.
They were selling purple poppies in the veterinary surgery, in remembrance of all those animals injured or killed in war. I thought that was good.
For sure. Then there were all the service animals, such as canines, used in various wars, without thought of glory or reward. Love the purple poppy idea, Sarah; thanks for sharing that!
It’s all so tragic that beings capable of such creativity, can resort to destructiveness on such a huge scale. I guess it’s just that the whole universe his governed by a balance of chaos and order, and that same energy runs through us, too.
Beautiful poppies, beautiful tribute…
Thank you, Sherri 🙂 Poppies are such lovely graceful looking flowers capable of growing on the most barren of soils. It must have looked so startling all those blood-red flowers sprouting out of those churned up, trenched fields at the end of the war.
Yes…quite miraculous I would think…
a beautiful tribute Sarah!!!
Thank you, Cybele 🙂
“Battlefield red” – what a beautiful line to describe a color. The petals on the ground look like drops of blood, indeed. Beautiful and strong tribute, thank you for sharing!
Yes, they do look like drops of blood. So symbolic that flowers the colour of blood should grow with such profusion in the battlefields, once the battle was over. It makes one wonder if it’s mere coincidence or by design that this should have happened.
They say that it is the way the poppies grow: when the soil is disturbed. They don’t grow in the dense clay soil. But who knows for sure…
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Writes quirky novels, speculative flash fiction, haiku and tanka. Nature lover. Novice photographer. Allotment freak. Mezzo soprano. British eccentric.
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© Sarah Potter and sarahpotterwrites 2012-2017. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Sarah Potter and sarahpotterwrites with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.