WARRINGTON SCHOOL: Anzac poems

Anzac Poem

 

by Naomi Ashby-Ryan

I see a field full of mourning poppies swaying in the breeze to remember those who died before them
I hear the distant cries of dying men calling for their homeland and wishing they were a million miles away
I smell the dust and smoke filling lungs with despair
I taste the trampled ground that so many have crossed to only find death on the other side
I feel the last trumpet blow for those who died for my freedom

Blood Red Poppy

 

by Elsa Neuman

 

A blood red poppy

pushes through scarlet soil

the beauty of the battlefield.

 

Stained corpses pile

three bodies high

the misery of war

broken by a single flower.

 

A crimson river flows

life for

a blood red poppy.

 

 

Poppy

 

by Jasmine Johnson

 

I see the poppies growing

I imagine the sound of guns

shooting

I smell the poppies as I walk past

I feel sadness in the air.

 

 

Anzac Poem

 

by Lichen Sorrel

 

I see... flames, smoke, empty bullet

shells, grenade pins and barbed wire.

 

I hear... deafening gun fire, war cries and

exploding shells.

 

I smell... smoke, grenade gas and the

gagging smell of old grotty trenches.

 

I taste... mud, dirt, gun powder and the

great taste of an ANZAC biscuit sent from

home.

 

I feel... scared, important and intimidated

by the enemy lines.

 

 

A Crow Flies

 

by Ruby Harris

 

A crow flies,

Poppies sway,

All on a mournful day.

 

The canon blows,

Trumpets cry,

All on a mournful day.

 

People gather,

Memories shared,

All on Anzac day.