The Seed

THE SEED - NOVEMBER'S POEM FROM OUR RESIDENT POET

November swirls in on misty mornings

And early darkening days.

It isa mystical month –

A time of myths, of restless spirits,

Of ghosts,

Of remembrance of the past.

Halloween and Bonfire Night,

With all the celebrations, pageantry and practices,

Are laid to rest

As the last fusillade of fireworks

Fades in the night sky of Bonfire Night.

Yet, all is not done.

Before Christmas holds sway

We have a perennial duty

To recall and give thanks

To those who died in conflicts,

Lasting more than 100 years,

So Justice, Freedom and Peace could prevail.

Many will remember

In formal parades, prayers

And the laying of poppy wreaths

At cenotaphs across the lands.

Some, will attend familiar places of worship,

Others, in the innermost confines of their hearts.

What really matters

Is that we remember, now,

And nurture the precious seed,

So that present and future generations

Will keep alight the memory

Of All who perished in the cause of freedom.