Poppies

MHowardI19250926-170330-08.jpg

Title

Poppies
The inquisitive mind of a child

Description

A woman explains to his son the symbolism of the poppies. In the final line she weeps because 'the world is forgetting again'.

Date

2004

Language

Format

One colour printout

Rights

This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.

Identifier

MHowardI19250926-170330-08

Transcription

Why are they selling poppies, Mummy?
Selling poppies in town today.
The poppies, child, are flowers of love.
For the men who marched away.
But why have they chosen a poppy, Mummy?
Why not a beautiful rose?
Because my child, men fought and died
In the fields where the poppies grow.
But why are the poppies so red, Mummy?
Why are the poppies so red?
Red is the colour of blood, my child.
The blood that our soldiers shed.
The heart of the poppy is black, Mummy.
Why does it have to be black?
Black, my child, is the symbol of grief.
For the men who never came back.
But why, Mummy are you crying so?
Your tears are giving you pain.
My tears are my fears for you my child.
For the world is forgetting again.

The original text:

POPPIES
Why are they selling poppies, mother? Selling poppies in town today?
The poppy, my child, is flower of love for the men, who marched away.
Why did they choose a poppy, mother? Why not a beautiful rose?
Because, my child, men fought and died in the fields, where the poppy grows.
But why is the poppy so red?
Red is the colour of blood, my child, the blood that our soldiers shed.
The heart of the poppy is black, mother. Why does it have to be black?
Black is the symbol of grief, my child, for the men, who never came back.
But why, mother dear, are you crying so? Your tears are like winter rain.
My tears are my fears for you, my child, for the world is forgetting again.
J.F. Willcocks - 2004

Collection

Citation

Colonel J F Willcocks, “Poppies,” IBCC Digital Archive, accessed February 28, 2024, https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/document/10303.

Item Relations

This item has no relations.